Shattered, a FACE Family fanfic
by xXHetaliaxOtakuXx
Summary: Throughout his entire life, France has never been faithful to Matthew. His life once revolved around his colonizer, how he wished he could reverse the clock and find out what he had done wrong, why he deserved this fate. But most importantly, to win France back. I don't own the rights to Hetalia or the characters. Rated M for blood, alcohol, angst scenes, swearing and drug usage.
1. Prologue, Shattered

Blood on the floor, broken windows and an upturned couch. Screams of defeat and apology. And finally, the familiar sound of the door crashing closed.

Francis has left Arthur, Alfred, and me...again. I lost count long ago of how many times that bloody frog had abandoned us. The real mystery, though, is why he always seems to comes back and act like nothing has happened.

"France! Why? Tell me, why?!" Arthur howls in defeat, pressurizing a cut on his arm caused by a broken wine bottle. Alfred tries to calm his ex-colonizer down, but Arthur won't have any of it.

And all the while, I was cowering behind the couch, whimpering and wailing at my ex-colonizer, and father, to stop fighting with Arthur. Obviously, he didn't listen to me, he never has and probably never will.

"Hey, c'mon England. It's ok, h-he'll come back, I'm sure!" Al tried to console, enclosing Arthur in a tight hug to prevent himself from being turned away by the broken-hearted Brit.

"No...no, America, he won't! Every bloody time he comes back, he abandons us and leaves our family in ruins! This is the last straw, he will never, ever interfere with our lives again!" Arthur screams, at the same time a new wave of pain crashes into me. Taking my chance, I ran and took cover in my room, bolting the lock on my door.

"Mat, wait-!" I hear my twin shout to me, but I was crying too hard to utter a response. I winced at my burning throat, but yet I continued to sob.

I flopped onto my bed in a crying mess, my tear-tracked cheeks cringing into my pillow while my body hiccuped sporadically. In time, I succeeded in crying myself to sleep.

This is how it's always been, and how it will always be.

My family, is shattered.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Sorry, I know it's a short introduction to the story, I but I wanted to get the idea out into the open. I'm open to criticism, just be nice, though. I won't accept any hate or negative comments.

Bye!


	2. Chapter One, A Chance

_Chance_

* * *

_Darkness envelopes me within it's ebony grasp. I search for a beacon of light, but with no prevail. Who is that in the distance? _I wonder, adjusting my glasses. More than that, who _is_ she?

_Her curly, silky blond hair was grown out and parted into two pigtails tied with vermillion ribbons. Behind the rims of her oval glasses lay pools of violet, filled with despair. _As I walk closer to her, she notices me and reaches out her hand. Determined to reach her, I broke out into a run, the look in the girl's eyes spurred me on.

_"Matthew..." She whispers, almost inaudibly. She repeats it again and again, the volume and hysteria rising in her voice with every call of my name. Only inches away until I could touch her ivory hand, the ground beneath my feet suddenly gave way. _

_I sunk like a rock, the pit of my stomach performing backflips. An invisible weight was creeping onto my chest, making each breath harder to inhale. It felt as if there was someone on top of me, anchoring me down as I seeped into the depths of hell itself._

_A blood-curtailing scream echoed from the surface. "That girl! Is she in trouble?" _I thought to myself. No, it sounds more like..._me_! A gunfire rung in my ears shortly after, I cupped my ears to avoid deafness, shutting my eyes for good measure. _England's musket?_

_"Matthieu," A familiar voice crooned, "I'm sorry, mon ange." _

It took me a while to relize I had screamed myself awake. I shot straight up, finally out of my nightmarish sleep and back into reality. Myself and my bed were both bathed in cold sweat and my heart was beating a mile a minute. _Damn it all, for the last two months since Francis left, I've been having the same nightmare over and over. _

And on top of that, I've been hearing voices in my head, nothing close to my concience. No, it was more of a..._person_ speaking to me. Usually just a word comes out of him, sometimes it's an undeciperable French quote that doesn't help my case at all.

But the strangest thing is, he sounds just like _me_. Obviously, louder and a lot more gruff, but the ethnicity was still there.

"Mattie! What's wrong? I heard yelling and-" Alfred's voice was rushed and paranoid. He had indiscreetly smashed open my door in an attempt to help me. England was hot on my twin's heels, rushing over to examine my body like he would always do when I had nightmares as a child.

"You're lucky you didn't hurt yourself, you could've fallen from your bed." Arthur berated patronizingly, but steadied himself to avoid yelling at me.

"Sorry for making you worried...I'm fine, really!" I rebutted. But Arthur was waiting for answers, I sighed in defeat, "I've been having nightmares about _that_ night, they started the night France left two months ago..."

Arthur's face paled. He knew _exactly _what I was speaking of. The night France left me _and_ my family for the first time.

"Also, in the nightmares, I keep seeing this girl...and she looks _so_ much like me! Not to mention I hear a singular voice in my head everyday-" I added, but Arthur cut me off short with his emerald eyes, _piercingly_ serious.

My mother-country bit his lip and thought long and hard, "I think...I think we-_you_...should see a psychiatrist," Arthur started, warily, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I kept you in this state!"

I pursed my lips in a hard line, and looked away at my feet. Arthur sighed internally and stood up, ushering Alfred out with him.

I sighed myself once I was sure the door had closed properly behind them. _No, not a psychiatrist! _I thought to myself, _anything but that!_

I did something I'd rarely ever do, only ever in dire situations. Kneeling in front of my bed, I prayed. _Dear Lord, could He find it in His heart to give this sinner's soul a chance to turn back the clock and chance Fate's course? I hope this isn't too much to ask..._

_...Amen..._

Getting up off the floor, I picked up Kumajiro; who had curled up beside me last night and was still sleeping soundlessly, as I made my way out of my room to eat breakfast, more or less as a family.

~•**XxXxX**•~

A silent night once more, yet eerie as the mice scurry in-between the walls and the creaking of the floorboards from Alfred's room above. Normal, that is, until I fall asleep. Then, and _only_ then, the psychopathic labyrinth called my mind comes to life and gets to run rampant in my dreams.

I sleepily shut my eyes, willing to get this night over and done with so I can savour the next daybreak.

"Should we tell him?" The gruff voice whispers. That's weird, I thought I only heard that voice in my head...Oh God! I've gone mad!

"A-Ah?!" Was all I could say at the uncomprehendable scene in front of me. Yeah, curiosity killed the cat _defiantly _fitted this scenario completely.

In front of me, at the end of my bed, stood the girl from my nightmares and I presume the voice in my head. They almost looked like they were floating, as if the people themselves were just simply illusions and mirages.

"Who the hell are you?" I whisper-yelled, in order not to draw any attention to myself. I certainly wouldn't want Alfred goading me about all these "visions" and "ghosts" for the rest of my days, let alone Arthur discovering another reason to why it might be a good idea to ship me off to the madhouse!

The girl gave me a sad smile, "We're both you from amother time..."

"And how the fuck is that supposed to make sense?!" I couldn't help it, I let that one slip. The girl flinched at the use of my colorful vocabulary, a reason to believe that she was right. I hate swearing, so call me a hypocrite.

"She means that we're you in different dimensions. She's your female counterpart and I'm your flipped personality, your 2P in short." The man spat back curtly, defending the girl that was just short of tears.

I opened my mouth to make a snide comeback, but the guilt hit me hard as soon as I caught sight of the poor girl's glassy, violet eyes.

The man took out a lighter and relit a used cigarette he was holding between his fingers, stepping up onto my bed all the while. Taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into my face was a _bit_ of an overkill, though.

"Alright, I'm sorry." I directed at the girl, pushing the man out of my face before he dared to take another drag. The girl nodded, her way of accepting apologies, before she walked to the other side of my bed.

"If it isn't too much to ask, could I at _least_ get your names and an explanation of what the f-_hell_ is going on." I requested, remembering to falter the use of blasphemy.

The girl answered me this time, "I'm Madeline, Maddie for short. And this is Matt, but he responds to Matthieu as well..."

I felt my heart pang in grief at the French name I was so "lovingly" called as a child. I shuddered as a result of remembering that damned frog.

Madeline's sad smile returned, a hint of understanding, "We came here...to give you another chance." It took me at least five seconds to understand what she meant.

"My prayer..." I mused. Matt extinguished his cigarette with his own two fingers and stamped it into the beige carpet that covered the floor of my room. It was much to my regret, I'd have a hard time removing ash from the carpet. Damn bastard...

"We know you hate France with a passion, but we're not too stupid to see that you also miss him, and that you would go to such lenghts as to _change_ Fate in order to get him back," Matt smirked and pushed a shoe-box into my arms.

Giving them both a suspicious glance, I opened the lid. Inside, a syringe with sterile needles accompanied a strange, green liquid in a vile. Definitely a drug of some sort, probably an illegal narcotic fresh off the black market.

I looked up at them, both in disgust and doubt. "Matt's idea." Madeline explained sarcastically, addressing Matt.

"This drug is inserted into the main artery on the inside of your arm. You will experience a flashback every time you inject yourself with it. The flashbacks will be showing different times in you life, but they will all show the increase and decrease in the bond you share with France," Matt explained, his voice turned serious at the next part, "But whatever you do, do _not_ go over the dosage of 5ml at one time, space out the usage evenly and _try_ not to get hooked, because that would be a real shame for everyone."

I looked down at the drugs. I'll defiantly need all of my self-control, and I can't afford to let Arthur _or_ Alfred see this, they'd go through the roof for sure!

I looked up, expecting the two to still be in front of me, but the both of them were starting to wither away into thin air. I guess they _have_ over-stayed their welcome.

"Wait! How is this going to bring back Francis?!" I call to them, there are still so many questions to ask.

"We'll let you figure that one out on your own, eh!" Madeline answered, and with that, they had vanished.

I hid the shoe-box in the safest place possible, my combination safe. I usually keep things of my history in there, but this was just as important. I just hope it's smell-proof...

Now onto pressing matters, how can drugs help a persons life? So far, no one has proved that statement right! So how can I believe them? Then again, this is all I've got to get _my_ France, _my_ _father_, back.

And I won't stop at anything to until my ex-colonizer _promises_ to stay, forever.

* * *

**Translations**:

• _Mon ange_ = My angel

Well, I made this chapter longer at least! I hope you like it, I'm open to reviews. Leave a favorite to show your support!

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Two, Past'

Bye!


	3. Chapter Two, To The Past

_Past_

* * *

The stagnant smell of smoke wafted from the kitchen. _Arthur's cooking_, I grimaced internally, _I do hope I keep them down this time!_ I took my rightful place at the dining table and stared down at my placemat.

"Decided to join us, Matthew?" Arthur kept the convocation light, fanning away the smoke emitting from the oven with a checked tea towel. Placing the baking tray of burnt scones on the stone counter, Arthur stationed two of the homemade coal-rocks onto each of our plates, a dollop of cream and jam to serve.

"Thanks." I muttered into the snow fur of Kumajiro, as Arthur set my allocated plate down in front of me.

To refrain from hurting my mother-country's feelings; I took a bite into the solid-rock surface and chomped away, trying my best to ignore the foul charcoal taste, and swallowed hard. Throughout it all, my face had morphed into a grimace of utter disgust.

Alfred mirrored my same expression, even from across the hardwood table, I could tell he didn't want Arthur's good intention to blow up in his own face.

"So," Arthur started, munching contently on one of the many scones he had piled onto his plate, "Have you picked a free day to see Dr. Wright?"

I dropped the remnants of the scone I had bitten into subconsciously. _I knew I wouldn't be able to escape Arthur's plan to get help from some haughty psychiatrist!_ Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I exhaled loudly.

"...How does Wednesday sound, are you free to take me then?" I offered in response, relaxing my tone. Arthur sifted through his mental agenda, I swear he has an eidetic memory sometimes...

"Only if you are willing to wait until after I finish up a World Meeting at five-fifty." He confirmed with a hopeful smile.

I nodded in acceptance. _It's Monday today, so I have a bit of time to prepare a rouse_, I thought to myself, standing up from the table to feed a groggy, still half-asleep Kumajiro. Bringing a paw up to rub the sleep from his eyes, the little polar bear cub looked up at me not-so patiently.

The fridge looked a lot more sparse since the last time I opened it. Then again, we haven't gone out for food in a while. Holding the last fillet of trout in my hand, Kumajiro snaffled it up quickly and still craved more.

"Hey Al, do you want to come food-shopping with me? I need to buy Kuma more fish." I turned to my twin, thinking it would be nice to have a little bit of company. I knew for a fact that a voice in my head didn't make up for much socialization.

"Sure, broha!" America piped up, bounding to the coat rack to fetch his bomber jacket, "Can we get a dozen Pop Tarts while we're there? I'm running super low on my awesome American candy, it's _killing_ me!"

Grabbing the keys from the bench top, I follow my overly-enthused twin out the door, just barely waving goodbye to Arthur.

_Alfred...you haven't changed a bit..._

~•~

"What?! This is a Farmer's Market, not a Walmart!" America complained, realizing our whereabouts. I find that the best fish is from a local market, not from a supermarket deli.

"I didn't say we were going to Walmart, now did I?" I mentioned sarcastically, that shut him up.

Alfred groaned, "But my Pop Tarts-OW!" America started, but I whacked the back of his head before he could complain anymore. It was always effective, leaving him silently grumbling. I almost felt inclined to spray him with a spray bottle full of water while wagging my finger at him.

"But nothing, eh." I finished curtly.

We walked around the busy and very loud market grounds, stopping occasionally to buy the rest of the supplies on the shopping list. Obviously, I crossed out all of America's requests, much to his disappointment.

He knew he had a diet plan to focus on, though he always seemed to have an excuse for pigging out on the couch late at night.

Finally, we came across the fishmonger. He gave me a friendly inclination of his head as a greeting, and asked us what we'd like.

"Twenty-two pounds of trout, thanks!" I ordered, getting out my wallet to pay.

I thanked the fishmonger and walked away with almost all his supply of trout. Alfred chuckled at the man's face as we left.

"We _are_ still here you know!" Matt spoke a full, English sentence for once. I jumped in surprise, I though I wouldn't hear from him or Maddie ever again. Alfred gave me a puzzled look, "Dude, you're seriously not _that_ skittish! It was just a cat!"

It took me a second to realize that I was surrounded by people and Alfred, as well as there was a cat in front of me. I laughed off my embarrassment, silently cursing at Matt.

And I knew he could hear me, for his laughter was herd loud and clear inside my head.

~•**XxXxX**•~

The guilt had never left my stomach ever since I accepted the strange drug that Matt "_prescribed_" me. Not only the guilt was making me sick, the fear was as well!

_Get it together_, I told myself, _it's just a needle! _Cracking the complex code of my safe in a brief moment, I carried the shoebox carefully over to my bed.

"No more than 5mL," Maddie reminded me. _So now I can hear her as well? My life just get's weirder and weirder everyday!_

As if fitting the needle into to the syringe wasn't daunting enough, I had to measure out the correct dosage. Who knows what kind of side-effects this drug houses!

"There, exactly five." I whispered, being sure not to create too much noise to my brother's or my mother-country's ears.

Without thinking of the pain, I jabbed the needle into the inside of my arm, holding back a string of profanities. Emptying the contents of the syringe into my bloodstream was hard to do without noticing the pain.

"Fuck..." I growled under my breath, as I pulled out the syringe from my arm. _Nothing happened_.

Just as I was about to scream at myself for believing in that sleazy bastard, the narcotic's effects finally kicked-in. It was a mixture of wonder and pain. Everything that moved was delayed, while my head felt like it was pounding itself to a pulp.

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing or screaming, so much it started to bleed.

And then, that's when the magic happened...

~•~

_I opened my eyes to a yonder white tundra, surrounded with gigantic fir trees blanketed in dresses of pure snow._

_"Where am I?" I asked the trees, and the snow, and the whole world I lived in. Noticing my higher voice, I looked down at myself._

_Just as I thought, the drug was real. Fashioned in a white nightdress and beside me a familiar polar bear cub, it wasn't hard to see that I was, indeed, my past self._

"What is an 'opeless little _garçon_ like yourself doing out 'ere in the cold, 'arsh world?" A familiar, rich French accent asked me from behind. I spun around to find my savior, my _only _true relative, Francis.

"I'm Canada, and who are you?" I play along, making sure not to stuff up anything. It would be a shame if I unintentionally said something due to future knowledge, if I did, I'd be in a _very_ tight situation.

"My name? It is Monsieur Francis Bonnefoy, but you can just call me your Papa." He replied gently, bending down to ruffle my blond hair.

I had forgotten what it's like to feel true love, but the feelings were hitting me hard now like a tidal wave. Francis swept me up into his arms and held me securely, but warmly, whilst trudging black the way he came.

"Where are we going, Papa?" I asked, curiously.

"Home, _mon ange_," He replied, pointing to a log cabin in the distance.

_...Home..._

~•~

I woke up briefly, the green digits on my clock radio stated it was past midnight. Having seen that crucial part of my life being played out in front of me again, it will take me an eternity to get over the deep-set, emotional after-shock.

Tears cascaded down the apples of my cheeks like a broken dam and for the rest of the twilight hours; I clutched my shaking body in the way France had done so many years ago, and repeated that one and only word that ticked over and over in my mind...

_"...Papa..."_

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Garçon_ = Boy

• _Mon ange _= My angel

This chapter is _slightly_ smaller than the last, I know, but I hope you still like it. Also, a **BIG** thanks to this story's first follower, it means a lot!

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Three, _Heart_'!

Bye!


	4. Chapter Three, Heart

_Heart_

* * *

Today was the day. _Wednesday, the day of the psychiatrist appointment, _I murmured to myself, as I filed away the evidence of last night's flashback. How am I supposed to bring back France anyway? It's not like I can apply what I see in my deliriums into my everyday life...

...Or can I?

I shook the foolish thought from my mind and locked the safe securely, checking to make sure the safe was secure. _Heh, I'm turning into one of those over-protective addicts,_ I observed my schizophrenic ways and chuckled without humour, _I'm going to have a hard time keeping this charade up!_

Matt was right, this unimaginable mission _defiantly_ wasn't going to be easy. Not only with Maddie's oblivious answer to how a drug would help in winning my father back, but also my cravings for more of the infectious narcotic were already taking over.

Self-control is vital, without it, I could lose everything in a heartbeat. My family...my _sanity_...and eventually, _my life_. Slipping on my beige coat, I walked out of my room to join Arthur, who was the one responsible of driving me to work.

The World Conference Hall was as busy and vivacious as ever. With the chatter of bustling countries and the sea of new ideas and upcoming holidays, it was so easy to get lost in it all. I was relived to hear that I had a G8 meeting to go to at ten-past noon, I'd have an hour or so to wash away the stress of my over-weighted burden that lay atop of my shoulders.

But, something is missing... There is no raucous laughter in the air, no familiar smell of cheese and wine, and no string of sexual comments...

...No France...

The whole case turned sceptical when even Gilbert and Antonio gave no sure answer to Francis' whereabouts. At the G8 meeting, there were only seven of us. They might as well call it a G7 meeting...

"Has anyone seen France-san? Isn't he _supposed_ to attend the G8 meetings rike the rest of us?" Japan hinted on the Frenchman's disappearance. Obviously, England held no worry over France. I couldn't blame him, I wasn't the only one who was internally suffering.

"Ve~ Maybe he's sick!" Italy chimed in, the rest of the nations nodded and grunted in agreement.

"Or perhaps, something came up suddenly, aru," China added, turning to England suggestively, "What do you think, England?"

All eyes turned to my mother-country, who simply shrugged, "Why should _I_ care for that frog? Probably started chasing another pretty face for all I know..." Nobody else sensed it, but England didn't mean it accusingly. He evidently believed that his former significant other longed for a more...attractive partner.

"Anyway, rather than stall our meeting, how about we get back on topic, eh?" I piped up, breaking the silence. Germany nodded in my direction and carried on from last week's topic; the alternative universes and what threats they posed...

~**XxXxX**~

"I'll come and pick you up later, alright?" Were England's departing words as he dropped me off at the foot of the GP clinic. _May as well get it over and done with... _

The waiting room posed as nothing out of the ordinary; hard plastic chairs, a thread-bare collection of vandalized magazines and the awful, "clean" smell closly resembled to that of a hospital.

"Ah, Matthew Williams?" The accountant at the lobby desk greeted, shortly after I walked in the door. The middle-aged lady pointed in the direction of the psychiatrist's office, saying that he was "_just the one to see_".

A flight of stairs and four doors down later, I found the right office. The plaque on the door spelt 'Dr F. Wright' in bold, black letters. I knocked on the door twice.

"Hm?" Was all I could hear from an inaudible mumble of an answer. _Quite unprofessional,_ I commented under my breath, before I twisted the door knob hesitantly and opened the office door.

The office looked oddly sizable; probably due to the bleach-white walls giving off the illusion of space. A leather futon stood on a diagonal, opposite to a matching armchair. The floor was coated with a modern rug, it's blue's and green's complimented the whole room. _Well, he does have taste. _I went ahead and laid down on the comfortable futon and waited on the doctor, who was fumbling around in a storage closet integrated inside the room.

I could hear him a lot more clearly now, he was humming along to a familiar tune. I recognised the song straight away, it was a folk song that was sung to me from as far back as I could remember. The memory made me smile at the man's humming, it was nice to know that someone else had heard of it as well.

But here the thing that gets me; I first heard that song centuries and centuries ago, before any recording devises were invented. So how could he know of the song existence if he wasn't from...

...France...

I was so endorsed in my thoughts that I forgot all about the approaching footsteps. Stumbling up from the expensive couch, I racked my brain for a suitable apology.

"I-I'm sorry, Doc, I just thought I'd wai-?!" I gave a quick shriek of surprise, and I _swear_ I had jumped out of my skin the moment I laid eyes on the man.

And the blond mirrored my same shock, "_Mon dieu?!_ Is that really you, _Matthieu?!_" There, right in front of me, stood France. I tried to hide tears of joy and hatred, but my guise was easily seen through.

"H-How?...Why?" I cried, hiding my tear-drowned face with my gloved hands. It wasn't long before France had taken me into his arms, a rare thing he ever did with me. A few fallen drops on my shoulder signified that France was also weeping silently.

"I changed my name and worked in secret...After all, I thought I'd never see you again!"

After a good five minutes of standing idle, motionless, we had both become placid enough to speak again.

"I've missed you, _mon ange_," France started, each word sincere, "'ow is _Angleterre_?"

"He misses you," I answered, trying my best to reduce the acidic sarcasm in my voice, "He thinks you've moved on from him already." Sure, I want Francis back, but I still haven't forgotten a whole past of abandonment!

France furrowed his brows and bit his lip, "I don't blame 'im...I'm such a poor exuse of a partner..._and_ a father." He directed the last part at me, I could practically feel his pain through his words.

"No matter how much I- _hate_ you from past events, I still need you in my life! I still need you, Papa!" I struggled to say such a strong word, but that line seemed to work.

France gave me a small, but genuine smile and ruffled my hair like I was my young self again, "How about a deal, eh? You can come and visit me, or vise versa, as much as you want," France's face lit up and he turned all his attention to the next part, "But only on _one_ condition...that we must do it all in secret!"

"But why in secret, Matthieu? Arther _and_ Alfred both 'ave a right to know!" France questioned.

"Because if either of them knew, they'd stop us for seeing each other ever again!" I reminded France. In turn, he nodded acceptingly.

"It's a deal, _mon chér Matthieu_, a deal I promise to keep!"

"Merci," I replied back in French, to my father's joy, "Je t'aime, Papa..." And with that, I launched forward and embraced the surprised Frenchman, in which he instantaneously wrapped his arms around my torso.

"...Je t'aime...Matthieu..." Francis replied, struggling to finish his sentence through his sobs.

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Mon ange_ = My angel

• _Angleterre_ = England

• _Mon chér_ = My Dear

• _Matthieu_ = The French way of saying Matthew :/

• _Mon dieu_ = My God!

• _Je t'aime_ = I love you

• _Merci_ = Thanks / Thank you

Thank you for reading! I was brainstorming for future chapters, and I forgot to plan for this chapter! Please, feel free to send a review to me if you want.

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Four, _2nd Player_'!

Bye!


	5. Chapter Four, The 2nd Player

_2nd Player_

* * *

"_Matt!_" I called impatiently, waiting for the damn bastard's reply. I held no victory, the silence mocking me for my capricious change in rational behavior.

_Why is he not replying? It's been a week now and I haven't seen Maddie either! _Exasperated, I pinched the bridge of my nose in utter stress.

I'm honestly starting to get a bit crazed about the whole situation. Okay, that was a misstatement, my sense of hope and reasoning deteriorates _that_ much more with every passing day!

I didn't care to hide my cruel smile. _Hope, when does anyone rely on such an unkempt lie to help with the catastrophes of our melancholy reality? _How I wish that life could be more simple.

There's no hope for me, life shall never alter it's path for an individual, no matter if they are a country or not.

_That's it! All of this...all my feelings from the day I took my first breath on Earth...all of it resulted to this!_ Why can't _I_ have a say in _my_ life's decisions? This is _my_ life, why can't I live it like a _normal_ human?

_Why was the duty of representing my country thrusted upon my soul? I don't deserve it! I want a normal life, a normal...family..._

Gods, what am I _thinking_?! What is this darker side emerging from the depths of my grief? It's probably apart of the string of damn side-affects included as a "package-deal" with the maddening drug.

Shaking my head until I was certain that I had loosened a screw in my neck, I succeeded in ridding my mind of the demonic thoughts...for now.

I tried calling Maddie dubiously, the hollow silence replied with it's airy, scornful laughter. _How expectant_, I thought sarcastically, smiling mercilessly at my own stupidity. _Honestly, why do I even bother!_

Speaking of stressing matters, I still have a lot where that came from! During the last G-_7_ meeting, Germany went on from a particularly worrying topic.

As told by the 2P Universes' spokesperson, there have been countless nation-doubles that have violated the rules of travelling between different universes, some of which have already made human contact. Yeah, it can't get any worse for me, right? _Wrong..._

Apparently, some of the doubles pose as a threat to us nations, a few sick individuals want to start a war to annihilate us compleatly. On the other hand, some come in peace due to personnal wishes. Those doubles come with temptations that would entice even the most rock-hard nations.

So basically, if anyone found out about Matt, we'd _both_ be screwed over big-time! Although, they didn't say anything about the Fem Nations...

More than anything, I need to do some well-needed reseach. _But where to start, where to go?_

_I know something's up! But what's the link, how is this all relevant? _I really need to stop over thinking. After all, I need to buy Francis a birthday present without anyone noticing _and_ before it's too late!

Even though my Papa's birthday isn't for a few months, there's hardly anything to do these days. So I may as well, right?

I shut my door a little louder than necessary, drawing unneeded attention from England, who was quietly sewing next to the fireplace in his favorite armchair.

"Where are you off to, Matthew?" England asked after I intentionally walked past him, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Just going out for some fresh air, a change of scenery." I refuted, I knew my answer would be vague to him.

"At 10 o'clock in the late _evening_?!" Alfred interjected from across the room, but I had already closed the door mid-sentence.

Well, now that's over, I can proceed onto gift-hunting. Should I start at the wine cellar...or the bakery?

~•~

_Whew! _I've been searching for hours and I can't find _anything_ suitable! _First_ of all, the wine cellar had already sold out all their French alcohol. _Second_, the bakery was closed. And _third_, the strip club was off-limits.

_I'll continue some other day, when it's not so late! _I thought, nodding at my decision. May as well get something to eat before I head home, I'm _famished!_

If my sense of direction holds up, I'll be about ten minutes from the nearest cafe. Cutting through the park would shave off most of my time.

The transfer from winter to summer made the flora impersonate a bag of monochrome licorice allsorts. Where puddles of melted snow dotted the pathway and the leaves were growing back as tiny shoots.

For a summer night, it sure was chilly. Clamping my arms tighter around myself didn't make a difference to my chattering teeth and goose-bumped arms.

_Should of ruged up more!_ I reminded my scatter-brained self. The describing word made me laugh at my life's inside joke. Scatter-brained, that describes my state all _too_ perfectly...

Maybe it would help to do up the buttons of my coat, I'll sit down over on the park bench over there. I hope the lady already there doesn't mind.

Upon getting closer to the bench, I noticed countless simalarities in the woman. For one, she had the same loving, passionate demeanor like Papa and she seemed to be inaudibly muttering French while turning someing over in her hands.

"_Enchanté_, _mademoiselle_." I greeted, in case she couldn't speak English. The lady snapped out of her trance-like state of imobility and looked up at me, bewildered. But her features softened for an unclear reason before she patted the space next to her.

Taking my seat, she spoke in an authentic French accent that sounded scarily familiar, "'ello, _Matthieu. _It's a plesure to finally meet you, _mon fils!_"

It was my turn to stare bewilderedly at her, before I did a double-take. _What the hell?! This crack-pot lady thinks I'm her son?! Since when did I ever have a mother?!_

_That's right...I never remembered having a mother...but then how was I born? Was I born though another woman who I was never introduced to?_ I looked back to the lady and I was met by anguished pools of violet. _Maddie...?  
_

_"_Ah, I see," The lady realized, sadly, "Francis 'as yet to tell you about me." Okay, now I was getting skeptical. Even my own _father_ has kept the identity of my mother from me!

"Wait, slow down! Can you please explain-"

"Let me guess, tonight you were looking for a present to give Francis for 'is birthday, no?" She cut me right off!

"Yes, that's correct. Now can yo-"

"'ere," She cut me off again, much to my annoyance, and placed the object she was so interested in before into my open hand. It was a silver necklace, on it accompanied a gold and blue fleur-de-lis pendant.

She went on, a noticable catch in her throat, "This 'olds great memories dear to Francis, I saved it from the fires that destoyed a tresured lover of 'is...and _mine._"

"Now, I won't bog you down with too much infomation, so I best be taking my leave now. Take care, _Matthieu_!" She farewelled, standing up from the bench and sashayed into the pitch-black night.

"Wait, you haven't even told me your name!" I finally said. She turned around and gave me a heart-melting smile.

"It's Marianne, _mon fils_," She added, and continued to walk away as she spoke, "Marianne Bonnefoy..."

And with that, I lost sight of her in the sombre nightfall. Looking down at the necklace, I sighed and placed it carefully into my pocket.

_Well Papa...you have a lot of explaining to do...!_

~•**XxXxX**•~

"Okay, England...I'm home." I wheezed, breathlessly. Man, I should've taken a cab home! I expected England to be patronizing me about coming home in the twilight hours after 12am. But he sat elsewhere, talking to what sounded like two people.

"Englan-...Aargh?! WHAT IN THE BLAZING-MAPLE ARE _YOU_ TWO DOING HERE?!" I screeched. This had to be the worst _any_ day could get!

"Oh, hey Mattie...Long time, no see!" Maddie and Matt said in unison, sheepishly.

"Don't, "Oh, hey" _me_! England is _right_ here! Do you know how much trouble we'll _all_ be in if Germany finds us?"

Arthur stood up, silencing me before pleading his case, "They've explained that they come in peace and I believe them..."

Is this why I couldn't contact them before? Because they were already in this world?

"_Nope, we just wanted to surprise you!_" Matt laughed telepathically. I swear the next chance I get...

"_Though when you are in the opposition's universe, it's harder to communicate our thoughts long-distance._" Maddie confirmed

England was wondering why the three of us were all staring at one-another, our movement refrained to only blinking and breathing.

"Arthur, do you mind if I have a word with the two of them? _Alone._" I asked without expecting an answer, practically dragging the two "_me's for another time_" into my room and slamming the door, leaving poor England puzzled out of his mind.

~•~

"So the reason why you guys and Marianne aren't floating anymore is because you're now here, in my universe...correct?" I put all the missing information together and most of it made sense.

"Uh-huh, that's right!" Maddie replied cheerfully. All the while since they entered my room, Matt and Maddie examined all my possessions. Maybe, in their universes, things look a _lot_ more different...

"I-_We_ think you should visit France's place to, I dunno, find out more about that necklace and possibly the rest of _our_ father's past." Matt gave his opinion, stressing the 'our'.

_That's true_. No matter how anyone looks at it, even though we're _all_ from different alternative universes, Francis _is our_ father.

Plucking the necklace out from the pocket I placed it in earlier, I analyzed it again quickly and sighed.

"Well...to Paris, we ride!"

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Mon fils_ = My son

• _Enchanté = _Good evening, Delighted, etc.

• _Mademoiselle_ = Madam, Miss, etc.

• _Matthieu_ = French way of saying Matthew :/

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Five, Paris'!

Comment, fan, favorite!

Bye!


	6. Chapter Five, Paris

_Paris_

* * *

"Okay, hold still- and _stop_ complaining about the weather!" I chastised Matt, who was indeed shivering constantly due to the February snowfall, despite standing intimately close to Maddie, who in comparison, happily posed for the camera. Hey, it was _his_ fault for not packing anything warmer!

The shutter of my dated camera clicked, and Matt exasperatedly groaned in relief, as he sought-after a _heated_ café. I honestly don't know _why_ I agreed to let Matt and Maddie come with me to Paris, all they've done is slowed me down. But I couldn't leave them either, for _obvious_ reasons.

So far, we've visited the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. But neither of us have caught wind of France's house. I remember Papa said he lived in Paris, his capital, and told me to come as soon as possible. Alas, we can't find him.

"Hey Matthew, what _kind_ of house are we looking for? Didn't Francis say he lived in a really big, Medieval manor?" Maddie reminded, a questioning tone in her otherwise all-knowing voice. _She has a point..._

"Well, what do you know, it's already_ five in the afternoon_! We'll take _one_ more route, and if we _still_ can't find him, _I'm_ booking a hotel room!" Matt griped sarcastically, using dramatized hand gestures to complete the whole complaint.

Ten minutes later, Matt finally led us in the right direction, stopping in front of the same house Maddie depicted. Matt threw us a triumphant look before ringing the doorbell. And, by all the bubbly laughter converging from the drawing room of the house, we _all_ knew this was the right one.

We were greeted by an ornery-looking butler, who's ancient form and senile gaze stated he wasn't going to be a butler for much longer. With shifty eyes, he analysed our almost perfectly symmetrical beings, before clearing his throat.

"Master Francis will only accept visits from family and friends, no foreign troglodytes allowed!" The old man concluded, nearing his chance to kick us out, before the familiar, intoxicating smell of cheese wafted to our noses.

"There will be none of zat, Louie, _Matthieu_ 'appens to be my son!" Francis scolded the confused butler. After a long processing thought, the butler named 'Louie' gave a deep bow.

"My sincere apologies, Sir _Matthieu_. Please, make yourself comfortable. Your friends may enter as well." The butler murmured, before clearing our direct path into the hallway.

With France's guidance, we followed him through the ornately-decorated rooms, introducing each one before heading to the drawing room. My guess was right, a gaggle of young, French women clustered around a hardwood coffee table, lounging on sofas and feeding themselves dainty shortcakes and croissants.

As if mechanically, all of them rushed to France's side in a flurry of skirts and sea of squeals. Matt was casually walking around the group, checking each girl out. Soon before he could blurt out a pick-up line, Maddie slugged him in the arm.

"_Filles_, _filles_, settle down! Zis is my son, _Matthieu_." My Papa always happened to have a group of girls following him every time I saw him, even when I was but a child. A honey-skinned girl gave me a suggestive wink, and I tried my absolute best _not_ to blush.

I cleared my throat and tapped my preoccupied Papa on the shoulder, "Uh, Francis? I didn't just come here for personnel gain, you know! I need answers that only you can give."

France nodded and turned his attention to his hoard of fangirls, "I am so sorry, _mon chères!_ Perhaps another time, another place? _Au revoir~!_" With a collective groan, Louie escorted the women out the room like a shepard controlling his sheep. I _still_ had to drag Francis away from the door frame, I knew he longed for more _companionship_...

Matt closed the door, and I sat across from my father on one of the antique, faded-leather couches. I wasn't very comfortable, unlike the modern futon inside the GP office, the memory itself was already slipping from my mind as if the visit took place years ago.

Before I could even begin my little 'interrogation', France was already firing off his sets of questions like there was no tomorrow.

"So, _mon fils_, 'ow are you? The weather isn't very good, I can see your friend doesn't look all zat warm. But anyway, 'ow is ze rest of ze family? I'm guessing _Angleterre_ is still furious, no? I've been meaning to ask, 'ave you found yourself a nice _mademoiselle_ yet? Or do you play for ze _other_ team, if you know what I mean? Which is _totally_ fine, boys your age are allowed to experiment! I 'ave done so myself on _many_ occasions!"

Matt had cupped his hands over Maddie's ears _long_ before Francis started talking, and I was sitting there praying for my Papa to stop! It always fascinated me on how Matt's personality changes from a reckless delinquent to a responsible _'big-brother'_ figure whenever he's around Maddie. I'd never say it out loud, I fear I'd be pounded into nothing and I'm _not_ planning on dying any time soon!

Drowning out my father's lecture on the 'birds and the bees', I took a better look around the room. The squarish, small room didn't make much of a difference to it's coziness, the peeling wallpaper revealed cracked, weathered walls that had stood the test of time. The antique furniture dated back to the 18th Century, as well as the ceiling-high doors leading out to on of the numerous balconies dotting the houses' outside shell.

"_Francis_," I raised my voice, catching the blond off-guard. _Finally_ getting his attention, I started with my first question, the one most confusing to me, "Do you know of a Marianne Bonnefoy, by any chance? I bumped into her a week back and she said she knew you."

The corners of France's mouth turned up -as if trying to hold back a laugh- before he gave his correction, "Oh, _Matthieu_! She _is_ me! She's my female counterpart!" Maddie and Matt couldn't help themselves, as they chuckled on either side of me. In a way, I'm relived...and disappointed. _Another unsolved mystery... _

I wanted to smirk at my stupidity, but I kept my serious-face on, and continued, "For a second I thought she was my _mother-_..."

France lost it there. He exploded into fits of laughter, tears rolling down the apples of his beaming cheeks. Maddie and Matt joined in, clutching their bellies. Embarrassment filled every square-inch of my body, my face red like a tomato. I cleared my throat again in an attempt to whip some sense into them.

"Yes, well, I _guess_ it is pretty funny, now can you _please_ listen to me!" I exclaimed, soon they all stopped and pulled themselves together, looking at me attentively. I sighed, relived, and fired off my next question.

"Regarding Marianne, she gave me this pendant that held dear memories to you..." I resumed, reaching deep into my coat pocket.

_Buzz, buzz...buzz, buzz! _

_My phone? Who'd be messaging me?_ I already told everyone I was going abroad and that I wouldn't check any messages. Reaching into my _other_ pocket, I checked my outdated, flip-mobile. The sender ID gave me butterflies and a fluttery heart.

_Gilbert?_

The flourishing red blush crept across my cheeks the more I read, my heart hammering into my ribcage.

_**Hey there, Mattie!  
Valentine's Day is coming up, and I was  
hoping that we could maybe spend the day  
together! I mean, who could resist a  
date with the awesome Prussia?  
D-Did I just say date? I-I mean I...I  
just- I'm gonna go now!  
L8ER, Maple!  
Prussia xx**_

I smiled at the nickname he came up with, he's been calling me that for a few months now. Now that I think about it; the occasional note-passing during the World Conferences, the regular weekend visits, and the constant tell-tale signs. _But does Gilbert really love me, let alone like me in that way?!_

I mean, I like him perfectly as a friend! Besides, he's always so self-endorsed, and loud, and passionate, and most defiantly ho- _No, no, no! I-I don't like him in that way! _

_...Okay, it's just a little crush, no big deal..._

_"Just a little crush?" _Matt and Maddie elaborated mentally on what I just said. _"Okay, okay, a bit more than a little...Happy now?" _I snapped back, a knowing look on my alternative-selves' faces, as they simultaneously high-fived.

Francis plastered a puzzled look on his face, exactly like England did. I shook my head and quickly replied without attracting any unneeded questioning from my Papa.

_**Hey, Gil!  
Sure, I'm free on the 14th, would you like to  
come to my place? I can make pancakes if  
you want! Right now I'm in Paris, I'll be back  
soon!  
Cya, East!  
Canada xxo **_

"Sent," I whispered to myself, smiling at the nickname the Prussian found quite ironic, but cute at the same time. But France overheard my content sigh and smirked knowingly.

"U-Uh Papa, could I use your library for a bit? Just a bit curious..._s'il vous plaît?_" I rushed my words before clenching Matt and Maddie's wrists and had Louie escort us to the home library, without waiting for an answer. For good measure, I slammed the door closed with my foot.

France blinked a few times, still amidst the confusion he just experienced, but his expression softened to a smile. Pouring himself a glass of scarlet _Bordeaux_ before taking a sip, he chuckled at Matthew's ways.

"Young love..."

~•**XxXxX**•~

"It says here that in 1431, May 30th, Jehanne d'Arc was burned at the stake as ordered by the English. Apparently, she was given orders from God to lead the French soldiers during the Hundred Years' War..." I mused to myself, skimming pages that belonged to the twenty-seventh book I had scrawled around the desk I sat at. Matt and Maddie had already gone to bed hours ago, once the sun dipped below the sky.

The library looked like it came right out of a fairy-tale, with towering grand-stairwells leading to the second floor where I was situated. Mahogany desks and wax candle chandeliers clustered around high bookshelves that didn't even begin to reach the domed-ceiling. The luxuries of France's home compared to mine made me feel out-of-place, a peasant.

I had scoured all the shelves for answers, to get a better understanding of France's past. But all I've found is general knowledge, until I found this. This book may open up a whole new window into my father's past.

"Also, her personnel belongings were burnt along with her. Including the jewelry she wore on her neck-..." I stopped short at the picture smack-dab in the middle of Old French text.

_A blue and gold...fluer-de-lis..._

"The same one...," I pulled out the necklace in my pocket to compare the similarities, turning it over in the dim light, "But if Jehanne was just a person, and not a country...why was she so important to Francis?"

A cool draft caught my attention. _No windows are open, and this room is far too old to have any ACs installed..._

Despite the deprivation of light, I could make out the faint outline of a human behind me on top of the bookshelf behind me. I must be out of it, too many sleepless nights.

Before I could question my sense of right and wrong, a heavy hard-backed book fell from above and knocked me off my chair. _Okay, I wasn't crazy, this was attempted murder!_

A warm liquid wet the crown of my head and dripped down my neck. If my coordination wasn't totally ruined by a fallen book, I'd reach to my neck to scrutinize over exactly _what_ dripped from my head that _defiantly_ wasn't black ink.

Before my eyes dared to close, a sullen male plunged a syringe into my tensed arm, I didn't have enough energy to stifle a scream of pain. Ominous plum-colored liquid flowed into my bloodstream, and another hallucinatory flashback flashed before my eyes.

"Sweet nightmares, _mon ange._" A familiar Frenchman growled sarcastically, before I slipped into the world of no-return.

_Fat...her?_

~•~

Church bells tolled into the crisp, Autumn morning, sending it's deathly wrath to all four-corners of the world. A black casket was lowered into the ground, as people around me wept and recited depressing hymns that made want to slit your wrists.

_A funeral...but who's?_

Looking down at my fitted tux and tallness, I was older in this flashback than my last. Francis' bloodshot eyes ringed with tears followed the casket down as it descended into hell, his bottom lip quivered violently.

Alfred sat on my other side, fidgeting in his seat and looking around restlessly, he was still too young to know what was going on.

"—Jehanne was a loving wife and mother, even if she died so young, she loved her infant more than any other mother. May she find her new life in heaven, and she shall become one with The Lord. Rest in Peace." The priest finished his prayer and stepped down from the altar.

I then realized that no other countries were at the funeral, only the three of us. Everyone else was human. _No Allies, no Axis...no England..._

France turned to me and smiled, his puffed-up eyes managed to smile as well, "Your mother truly loved you, _Matthieu_. Some day you will understand the sacrifice she made."

And with that, France picked me and America up, and brought us to the headstone of my dead mother.

_Jehanne...d'Archille..._

After what felt like a lifetime just passed, France put us down and took us hand-in-hand. One last glance over my shoulder still wasn't enough to convince me that she really wasn't Jehanne d'Arc. The necklace, that lay in substitution to flowers, said it all.

_No...no it can't be! It doesn't add up! She can't be my mother!_

_...Can't she?_

~•~

"_Matthieu, Matthieu!_" I found my father shaking my now conscious body, he had obviously gotten worried and started looking for me.

"Jehanne...mother...–Wait, how long was I out for? Where are the others?" I was still groggy from the flashback, but I still attempted to survey my surroundings. _No_ syringe and _no_ book.

And then I realized that my head had split because of the book. I felt around, and winced as I got to the top. No more bleeding, but still _excruciatingly_ painful!

A sigh of relief escaped from my Papa's lips, glad that his son was alive, "Well, I only found you 'ere five minutes ago...But ze time now is ten-thirty in the morning."

_Shit, I was out for that long?!_

The effect of the drug had completely worn off, but the concussion was just taking effect. Bile rose up my throat, and my head felt like it was about to burst. Swallowing hard, I grimaced as a result.

"Maybe you should lie down, _chèr. _I'll get Louie to call ze doctor for you...You may need to stay a little longer than planned!"

"But...but Arthur! Won't he be...–"

"Mad? _Worried?_ Of coarse, _Matthieu!_ But right now, your well-being matters ze most!"

He had me there, so I accepted the fact that I would have to stay here for a lot longer than planned.

_Still, who was that man..._

_...And which woman was my mother, d'Arc or d'Archille?_

_God, I just don't know anymore!_

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Matthieu_ = the French way of saying Matthew :/

• _Filles = _Girls, ladies, etc.

• _Mon chères / Mon __chèr = _My dears / My dear

• _Au revoir = _Goodbye, So long, etc.

• _M__on fils = _My son

• _Angleterre_ = England

• _M__ademoiselle = _Madame, lady, etc.

• _M__on ange = _My angel

Yep, PruCan added for my friend's enjoyment! Your welcome, Maggie!

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Six'*!

Bye!

**P.S. I'm not adding names, because usually I don't come up with them straight away!**


	7. Chapter Six, Recognized

_Recognized_

* * *

When I was sure that my hair would stay perfectly styled, I half-smiled at the mirror. _I'm surprised that I didn't go through a whole container of hair gel!_

Fiddling with the cuffs of my sweater, shifting my weight to my other leg in impatience, and writhing my excessively clammy hands; it wasn't hard to guess that I was extreamly nervous. _Calm down Mattie,_ I mentally asured myself. _Sure, it's your first date, but what could possibly go wrong?_

"Oh, I don't know, just about..._everything?_" Matt joked, appearing to be leaning on the door jam. _How did I not see him?!_ Shooting a glare at my 2P, I smoothed down my fringe for the 100th time in vain, trying my best to not let Matt's words crush what was left of my self-assurance.

Stepping out of the aged en suite, I pushed past Matt and walked out to the heart of my house. The living room itself brings me back to the very day I first opened my eyes as a country.

The quaint furniture, the faded portraits of my past bosses, and even the food in the pantry..._all_ of it untouched, just the way I kept it before I moved out to live with England and America.

I dared a glance at my phone, the pixelated text confirmed the date. February 14th.

Valentine's Day. The exact day I promised to spend with Gilbert, something I was eagerly looking forward to and something I deeply regretted. _What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if the relationship won't last? What if I'm not ready?_

"Mattie, don't sweat it! I'm sure you'll both hit it off." Maddie encouraged, wringing me out of my pessimistic circle of thoughts. I looked up to see her holding a pair of new denim trousers, my old pair were mauled by Kumajirou in an attempt to persuade me to let him come with me, the day of my departure.

With a small nod of appreciation, I took the trousers from her outstretched hands. The price tag displayed more numbers than I expected.

"Thanks, Madds, but you didn't need to shop at a designer department store to buy me a pair of replacement pants!" I laughed, ruffling her wispy curls, wearing her hair down for a change. Maddie waved away my modesty and told me to try them out for size.

Ushering Matt out of my room, I intended to get changed out of my grey sweatpants. Though, my body had other plans. Instead, my hands reached for my suitcase, inside the dastardly drug I had succeeded in getting hooked on. _What the hell is going on?_

"You can not fight ze cravings, _Matthieu_." The gruff Frenchman's voice rung loud and clear in my head, only I could hear him.

My hands, now equipped with minds of their own, drove the needle into my skin without warning and rather abruptly. I tried to yell out to Matt or Maddie, but not even a squeak came out. Sinister music filled the room, as the house lurched this way and that. _This doesn't seem right, where is the flashback?!_

My head filled with pain so intense, the force pushed me down to the floorboards. I grasped my head and cried, the oncoming scream caught in my throat. _Voices_...I could hear voices but no footage to accompany the dreaded event being replayed.

"For the _last_ time, I'm _not_ at fault for Jean's death! Sure, your _beloved_ Johanne was killed by the British, but we're in the present now! _Stop dwelling in the past!_" Arthur?

"Oh bullshit! It iz _your_ fault and _your_ fault alone! _Because of you, Matthieu is motherless!_" Francis?

The shrieks between my mother-country and papa continued, as I pleaded for it all to stop. Hysteria rose in my screams, my sanity exceeding it's limits. I had become deranged, lost.

Insane.

_"I'm sorry, mon ange..."_

"Matthew! _Matthew!_ C'mon, vake up!" I shot straight up, head butting the person shaking me awake. Wincing, I rubbed the dull pain pulsating from my forehead before standing up to apologize to the unfortunate person on the ground next to me.

"I'm so sorry Matt, I didn't see you there-" I started, though I was cut off by the one voice I wanted to hear the most.

"Matt? Who iz zis _"Matt" _you are referring me to?" The albino stood up on his own, despite being a little un-coordinated from the recent head-on-head collision. I internally face-palmed at my clumsiness. The man I had just hit and called my split-personality, was in fact, Prussia.

I dithered for what seemed like five minutes, before I frantically looked around the room for the evidence of my hidden narchotic, but with no success. _No_ needle, _no_ vial, not even a _puncture_ wound on my arm. From over Gilbert's shoulder, Maddie and Matt gave me a thumbs-up, they'd obviously taken care of my dirty work before Gil arrived.

"S-Sorry, Gil. You're not hurt, are you?" I asked, walking casually over to the Prussian. Gilbert blinked a few times, and shrugged while flashing a reassuring grin, "Who, me? Hurt? Pfft, I should asking you zat! You ver zee one laying on zee ground in a mumbo-jumbo trance!"

_Trance?_ Hm, I wonder, why is the effect different this time? Rather than worry now, I have a guest, I should be more concerned for him.

"By zee vey, who are zee two over zhere who greeted me? Zey look very much like you!" Prussia asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, curiosity laced into his tone.

I opened my mouth to say they were "distant relatives", but quickly thought otherwise. _No, I shouldn't lie._ As much as it is a secret, I can't lie, _especially_ not to Gilbert. Instead, I sighed quietly.

"How about we discuss it over some pancakes, eh? I'll make your favorites." I comprimised, in a persuasive tone. As if mechanically, Prussia's attention was diverted to the thought of the ice-cream and maple syrup pancakes I made for him the first time he came to my place. In a blur of navy blue, I suspected Prussia was obediantly waiting at the dinner table, like a trained dog.

Whilst I conbined the ingrediants to make the batter, I decided to tell him, "The two people that greeted you are actually..._me._ Matt is my alternative personality, most commenly called a 2P. And the girl's name is Maddie, my female-counterpart."

Gil stopped swinging his legs under the table and looked at me, before he snickered. "Man, West von't shut up about zee whole "2P's vill take over zee verld" business! Don't vorry, zough! I von't tell _mein bruder. _It'll be our little secret, okay?"

"I wonder," I started, choosing my words carefully, "I wonder if you have a 2P?" Prussia's smile faltered, and I instantly felt the guilt in the pit of my stomach.

Prussia's smile returned, a half-hearted one, though he tried his best not to frown in my presence, "West tells me constantly zat he may be out zhere, but if he _is_ my flipped personality...would that mean he wouldn't of had the strength to remain a country like I have?"

Before I could break the awkward silence, Prussia sensed the mood and changed the subject, "So, uh, vhere are vee going today? Any plans?"

I spooned the batter onto the sizzeling pan on the stovetop, "Where ever you like! You _are_ my guest after all."

Before long, the pancakes were done. A stack of five pancakes doused in maple syrup and a single scoop of vanilla ice-cream for me, and chocolate for Gil. I couldn't help but chuckle at our differences. I ate with a knife and fork, in contrast with Gilbert, who didn't care about his sticky hands as he dug into his pile, guzzling on the leftover syrup from his plate. _Opposites attract..._

"I have an awesome idea!" Prussia announced, patting his distended belly, "I've never had much luck vith ice-skating, could you teach me first-hand? _Please?_" He wrung his hands in a pleading manner, pulling the old "puppy-eye" trick from the book. It wasn't very effective, but it sounded like a good idea, so I agreed to take him to the frozen lake down the hill for a test run.

While I haven't _figure_ skated much, ice-hockey is _one_ sport I have been able to beat Alfred at as of yet. I demonstrated the correct technique to move forward, to switch directions, and to turn a full circle. Gilbert was still quite skittish, but managed to get the hang of it. Taking his hands, we spun around on the ice together, and Prussia was ecstatic with excitement.

"Oh man, zat was _wundarbar!_ Alsough, falling over all zhose times has done it's toll on me!" Prussia laughed, untying the ice-skates I lent him without much difficulty. Time flies when you're having fun, and it was true. We left just after two o'clock in the afternoon, and already it was nearing to six-thirty!

So, without much further rest, we set off back to my cabin. Since I live quite high up the mountain-range, we had to hike back up the snowy, fir-tree infested biome the same way we got down. As the sun dipped under the sky and the crescent Moon reclaimed it's position curled up in the starry night sky, the temperature dropped a little lower than the weather-man forecasted.

Prussia kept me close at his side, a hand place safely in the middle of my back. Suddenly, for whatever reason he posed, Gilbert walked us both off the track. I wanted to question his reasoning, but with the genuine look he kept on his face, he knew where he was going.

Behind a formidable thicket of trees, having to crawl on our stomachs to over come such an obstacle, we reached a grotto that I was never aware of. Judging by the shaping of the cave's entrance and the primative drawings on the walls, early Inuit tribes had obviously carved the whole interior from the cliff face.

"It's easier to talk in here zan outside, no vind over our heads or anysing." Prussia commented. Taking hold of my hand now, he walked further in, despite not much light he managed to go without tripping over. I reached for my torch to help with the light source, but stopped as I finally noticed faint green lights dotting the walls.

Glow worms. Prussia turned a sharp right and we were presented with a glowing, mossy wall. There, Gil sat down a safe distance away from the wall; in case we accidentally startled our light source, and I followed down shortly.

"Matthew," Prussia said, catching my attention, "_Danke,_ for taking zee time out to let me visit you. I had fun, lots of it! I vish vee could spend more time togeser, I guess _meins und bruder's_ schedules are really busy, as is your's."

I nodded twice, averting my eyes to my side. _This could be my chance only chance to ask_, I thought.

"Gil, was this really a date?"

When I met his gaze one more, he was staring; his red orbs warm like a logfire, I couldn't help but shiver. And it wasn't just because I was cold. Prussia let go of my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me a little closer. Yet I didn't struggle against his touch, with anyone else I would.

Gilbert chuckled once, "Of _course_, silly! I guess I should of said zis earlier but, I've really liked you for a vhile, I just vasn't sure of your preferance. And you can't just openly _ask_ if someone's gay, right?"

Everything clicked together, like a resolved puzzle. Using all of my strength to hold my excitement together and to not smile like a lunatic, I hummed in agreement, "I honestly thought you were straight, but I guess neither of us are. Because I really like you, too."

Prussia's hopeful eyes smiled with his mouth, his cheeks flaming. Biting the side of his bottom lip, his smile slowly grew wider, "Vhell, vhat happens after a date?" It was my time to blush.

"A-A kiss..." I whispered the answer to my feet, but Prussia's fingers gently coaxed my head up to meet his own. Gilbert gave a small nod, hesitating a little as he inched closer...and closer still.

Millimeters before our lips could touch, the pain in my head from this morning returned, stronger than before. Sadistic French laughter rung in my ears, louder. "Nggh..." I groaned, my head falling into my hands.

The pain subsided as quickly as it came. I looked up to see a confused, and slightly disheartened Gilbert, blinking at me.

"I-I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, I do want to kiss you! It's just my head and-" I babbled, close to tears. What if I gave the wrong impression?

I felt a hand cup my cheek, and looked up. Prussia smiled, understanding the situation. My internal sigh of relief was switched with a surprised gasp as Prussia lifted me effortlessly up onto my feet.

"I sihnk zat you should get some sleep, Matthew." Prussia answered parentally, though his tone stayed light. Good, at least he didn't take it to heart...

The wind outside had died, though it was that much colder than when we entered the grotto. Now, much more comfortable that our feelings were shared, I hugged closer to Gil as we trudged higher.

Finally, we made it inside. I felt inclined to flop onto the sofa and sleep, but Gilbert directed me to my room and waited outside until I was changed.

I opened the door and let him in, the bedside lamp offering faint lighting. At the foot of my bed, Prussia held me in front of him with a look that said, "Where were we?".

"Goodnight, Matthew," Was all Prussia said before he pressed his lips to mine. A volt of electricity struck my spine, as I raked my hand through his ashen locks. "_Ich liebe dich...Kanada._" He breathed before he placed a final kiss at the corner of my mouth.

"I...love you too, Prussia." I replied breathlessly, retuning back to an embrace in the Prussian's arms. I struggled with the oncoming emotions, shedding a tear.

Hearing my soft sniffling, Prussia pulled back to face me with a concerned face. Using his thumb, he dried my streaky tears comfortingly. He remained silent, instead on bombarding me with trivial questions like "Are you okay?". The fact itself made me feel a little better.

"Don't w-worry," My voice wavered, smiling at my babyish reactions, "I'm just happy that someone finally recognizes me and truly loves me for who I am! And no matter what _anyone_ thinks, you'll always be a country to me."

Placing a kiss atop of my forehead, Gilbert supported the my back of my head with an alabaster hand, his other forearm hanging loosely over the edge of my shoulder.

Though I'm sure he'd never admit it, tears stung his glassy eyes as well.

_"Danke...Matthew."_

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Matthieu_ = French way of saying Matthew :/

• _Mon ange_ = My angel

• _(Mein) Bruder_ = (My) brother

• _Wundarbar_ = Wonderful, Amazing, etc.

• _Danke_ = Thank you, Thanks, etc.

• _Und_ = And

• _Meins_ = Mine

• _Ich liebe dich_ = I love you

• _Kanada_ = German for Canada

I was close to tears while writing the later scenes, I've never really gotten emotional when writing, if not _ever_!

I hope you liked this chapter, leave a favorite or review to show your support. If you want to be updated everytime I upload a chapter, just follow this story!

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Seven'!

Bye!


	8. Chapter Seven, Reunited For Now?

_Reunited...For Now?_

* * *

Trudging up twelve familiar flights of stairs to an even more familiar top-floor condo was easier said than done. Probably because of the fact that I was dead tired from the fly back to England. Matt and Maddie weren't too far in front of me, though Maddie looked as if she could drop-dead at any moment.

_Just a few more steps until we get to the front door,_ I reminded myself, knees trembling with every step from the weigh of Maddie's extra luggage combined with my own.

I rung the doorbell twice, impatient. Hopefully Arthur won't complain about the time, it _is_ four o'clock in the morning...

A set of footsteps stomped up to the front door, before an exhausted Alfred almost yanked it from it's hinges, "_What_ in the name of— Oh, hey Mattie! Thank _god_ you're back! The little polar-bear dude bit me twice while you were gone...they don't carry _rabies_, do they?"

I rolled my eyes at my brother's paranoid queries, as the three of us pushed past him. _I see Arthur repainted the living room again,_ I thought, noticing the usual light beige walls had been replaced with a milky-cream acrylic.

Maddie had already sought refuge under the covers of my bed, and Matt had already collapsed down a safe distance next to her. Great, another night sleeping on the couch.

"Matthew, could I talk with you for a second?" A certain Brit asked, in a tone that stated he wasn't giving me the option to refuse.

Clenching my teeth together, though my face composed, I slowly spun around to come face-to-face with the one and only Arthur Kirkland. He simply held up my camera...the _same_ camera I took on _"a holiday to catch-up with some friends"_, or so I lied.

The truth remained that it was the camera I took to Paris. I guess he found out while I was away in my home-country...and Arthur doesn't look very happy about that fact.

"Would you mind telling me where you _really_ were on that "holiday" a few weeks back?" He asked, casually swinging my camera by it's lanyard. He may of thought otherwise, but I clearly heard the hard edge in his tone.

_Damn, I can't get out of this one!_ Arthur took hold of my camera and started to scroll through all the photos I took, stopping at the one of Matt and Maddie, taken on that wintery, December day in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Rolling my eyes to myself, I exhaled loudly and told the truth, "Okay, you got me. I went to see Francis and while there, I was injured, which _explains_ the slightly longer trip. So _sue_ me!"

England's right eye twitched, his thick eyebrows furrowing together, "I don't know if I made myself clear enough. As well as your _father_, you and Alfred are _not_ to interfere with that frog's life, as _he_ is not to interfere with _ours_!"

I stayed silent, using all my power to not blurt out a cruel comeback.

"Do you have _any_ idea how angry and how pained I am?" Arthur continued, dropping his hands to his sides, "Francis...Francis left us more times than I could _begin_ to count. Every time, my words drove him away...and I can't help but feel guilty for separating our family! From the _first_ day we fought, _I_ was the one who destroyed the relationship between you and your father..."

"The man I have hated for _so_ many years...is the _same_ man I still love with all my heart." England's voice changed from enraged to shaky, his tone was now laced with nostalgia, his emerald eyes grew glassy and melancholic. "Everyday I think of him, and I regret _every_ word of hate that I spat at him. Now he's disappeared out of my life, for real this time."

England held a hand to his mouth, trying in a half-hearted attempt to silence his shallow breaths, lone tears trickled down his cheeks from his scrunched-up, anguished eyes. I felt a pang in my chest, selfish for not even regarding my mother-country's problems at all.

I racked his brain for a suitable thing to say, "Papa misses you too. I'm sure he's thinking the same; knowing he let us down for the last time, never forgiving himself for making his lover cry."

England nodded his head, though the tears continued to spill. Alfred took the situation into his own hands, and ran over to England to console him with a comforting hug. England didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around his ex-colony and to bury his face into America's shoulder. I bit my lip, I couldn't help feeling sorry for my mother-country...

I had no choice but to do with my last resort to help, "Maybe, we could have France come and live with us again. I certainly can't bare to see you like this."

Alfred threw me a repulsed look, "Are you _crazy?_ What if he leaves us again? _Then_ what, smart-ass?"

"That's enough, Alfred...your brother has a point. I'm sure we can make amends." England replied sternly, leaving America in a gawking state. Arthur knew it could be the only cure to his heart-break. So with a sniff and a small smile, he agreed to my plan. Though Alfred was still a little shifty about the reunion, he gave in eventually.

"Good, I'm sure he'll be happy to hear the news." I concluded, grabbing out my phone to send a quick text of great news. _Maybe then, after they make up, this whole drug thing will blow over like it was a thing of the past..._

~•~

Five days later, we had scheduled a day for Francis to arrive. That day is today. Arthur spent all morning preparing the greatest batch of scones he had made yet. And by _greatest_, I mean not _all_ of them were totally singed.

After completing a few house-keeping chores, I helped Alfred set the table with our best set of polished silverware. I thought it was a little over the top, but I didn't want to spoil England's subconsciously-exited mood.

Along with the scones, England had bought a bottle of imported French wine out of consideration to France's tastes, as well as fine cheese and cured meats.

"He said two-o'clock, right?" England checked, glancing at the microwave's green digits. Quarter to two, it read.

"That's right," I confirmed, "He should be here soon, and I think the room looks clean enough." England nodded, tipping the tray of scones onto a large, ceramic place and placing it in the middle of the table, like an edible centerpiece.

_Ding dong!_

We all froze in place and stared at the front door. "Well, at least he's not late." I commented, making my way over to open the door.

Swinging the door open, there France was, holding a bouquet of lilies and white-roses. He flashed me a warm smile, "_Bonjour, mon fils!_ 'ow are you? It's good to see you again, _Matthieu_."

"I'm good, Papa. Come in, make yourself comfortable!" I replied, stepping aside to let my farther in.

England shuffled over to greet France, a pink glow swept across his cheeks, "Nice to see you again, Bonnefoy. It's been awhile..."

"Indeed, _Angleterre_, almost too long! 'ere, I bought these on my way over. Your favorites." Francis handed Arthur the bouquet. Arthur studied the bouquet closer, both of their national flowers were included in the bunch. Indeed, his favorites.

"Th-Thank you," England stuttered, realizing he was blushing and dithering like a lunatic, "Um, anyway, how about we talk about the whole 'you living here' business over tea?" _Hm, I wonder if Arthur really is, as Japan always says, a tsundere...?_

France nodded and reclaimed his usual spot that had been left untouched by all of us, a few cobwebs here and there. Yet Francis still sat without hesitation, while the rest of us followed. Alfred sat across from me, obviously trying to use the most nonchalant way possible to get away from France. I couldn't help but notice our colonizers had been staring longing at each other ever since they both sat down.

I cleared my throat, and then had to again to get their attention, "Alright, I believe you have a preposition to make, Arthur?"

"Huh? Ah, yes," Arthur stumbled with his words, but made an effort to keep his serious face from slipping as he stood up from his chair, "Francis, you are allowed to stay with us from now on for the rest of our lives...On _one_ condition, that you swear to _never_ leave us again or tear our family apart."

Alfred snorted and rolled his eye, for which I kicked his shin from under the table. France stood up to be level with England, and put a hand over his heart, "I swear on my life as a country; I promise to never leave _Amérique_ or Canada, and most importantly, I will _never_ leave you, _Angleterre_, _ever_ again!"

Words that England would usually sneer at in the past, he smiled at today. America sarcastically checked his watch and gasped in mock-shock, "Well, would you _look_ at the time, _Mattie_ and I have a meeting in twenty-minutes!"

And with that, my brother grasped hold of my wrist with more force than necessary and made for the door, slamming it shut behind me.

France and England stood there, captured once again in each other's gaze. Before long, Arthur strode around the table and enclosed his arms around Francis, his head resting in the crook of the Frenchman's neck.

Verging tears clustered in the Brit's eyes, ready to spill at any given moment, "Francis...I've missed you, _so_ much. I'm glad that you're back, and I'm sorry for driving you away all those times an-" Arthur's words were stopped by a velvet-gloved finger pressed upon his lips. France had pulled away from the Brit and was now at head level with him.

"'ush now, _ma amour_," Francis lowered the volume of his voice to a whisper, "In the time we spent apart, not a moment went by without me thinking of you. I was ruthless, and I had done you 'arm that nobody should deserve to suffer. But what I 'ate the most...is that _I_ made you cry, and I could say sorry a thousand times over, but I will _never_ forget the anguish in your eyes. _Angleterre_, please forgive _me_, do not blame yourself for my sins."

France's lips took the place his finger once held, drawing his lover closer. England moaned softly as his French partner bit his lip playfully, his tongue pleading access which England granted. Entwining their hands together, the two stood there, their motions fluid with passion and desire.

"I love you, Francis." Arthur beamed breathlessly as the kiss subsided, his hands took back their place over the edge of Francis' shoulders.

"I love you too, _Angleterre_." France smiled, planting a lasting kiss on the top of England's head, secretly wishing this moment could last forever.

~•**XxXxX**•~

"I _just_ don't get it!" I exclaimed, pacing around my room, trying in vain to put the pieces together, "We're a family now, and I'm still craving that god-forsaken drug! Could _someone_ enlighten me on _why_ that is?"

"Stupid, the deal isn't done until this feud has stopped once and for all, and I can tell you now, it hasn't even warmed up yet." Matt's vague answer didn't comfort me at all.

"What Matt was _trying_ to say was; once your deepest wish, _deeper_ than getting France back, is fulfilled...this _whole_ thing will be resolved, and the two of us will go back to our own worlds." Maddie's helped, though I didn't have any more wishes. _What could they possibly mean?_

My train of though was interrupted by something banging on my window. _A crow? No, it's too loud to be one,_ I though, cautiously approaching the windowsill.

I quickly opened it and stumbled back as a peculiar man hoisted himself up into my room without difficulty, despite the fact he was hanging twelve stories above certain death. Dirty clothes, sullen eyes, unkempt stubble and a shrewd scowl completed him.

Matt looked repulsed, horror stirring in his furious eyes, an unnatural look for him. Maddie had sunk down behind her protective barrier that was apparently Matt, a glower filled with hatred stuck permanent to her face, a rare look for her.

The man's eyes swept absentmindedly over us, we wrinkled our noses at the smell of gasoline and alcohol that dampened his drab, grey shirt. He walked over to me, and grasped my coat with his boney hands, his fingers turning a puke-yellow at the fingertips.

"My, my...if it isn't _Matthieu_, my weak, 1P son with my bratty, 2P son. There's not much of a difference between you, I could mistake you for the same person. Oh wait, you _are_ the same person," The Frenchman laughed harshly at his own joke, his accent scarily distinct to me, "Either way, you are both a disappointment to _moi_..."

"Go back to the hell where you fucking came from." Matt barked, boring his eyes into the man's with scorching revulsion, shielding Maddie with his own body more defensivly. Pushing past him and dropping his hand from my chest, the man diverted his attention to Maddie, who looked as if she was having a stare-off with a ghost.

"And what might your name be, _mademoiselle_?" He jeered, grasping Maddie's chin as he tilted her head this way in a rough manner, his eyes filled with deliberate yet mock lust.

I grabbed the senile man's wrist, prying the his grubby fingers off of my counterpart's face. "Get away from her. I have no idea of _who_ you are, but I _don't_ like you! Either tell us your business here, or stay out of out lives!" I snapped, throwing the man's wrist out of out grasp and wiping my hand on my trousers.

The man tutted sarcastically and regained hold of my coat, his grip tighter this time. The man gave a merciless smirk, and an intensive pain circulated my head, "I don't think you remember who I _really_ am, _Matthieu!_ _I_ was the assassin who tried to murder you with a book, _I_ was the one who injected you with a _Counterfeiter_, and I'm going to be responsible for your _all_ of your future misery!"

The man's voice circled inside my head, like a broken record. "Stop it! _Stop it! __Get out of my head!_" I screamed, clutching my head and falling to my knees, writhing in pain.

"Matthew, we need to get out of here! _The French troops are here, they are here for you!_" Arthur? No...no, it _can't_ be that day!

"You need to hide, come back to my home and hide in the most secluded part of the United Kingdom. I'll tell you when you can go back, _though it might be years until you can set foot in your own country!_"

"_Run, run Matthew, run!_"

Outside of my horrendous flashback, Matt could see that the man was my source of pain. Not taking a moment to second guess his plan, Matt collided with the man, knocking him out of concentration. Which, in turn, bought me precious time out of that mindless hell, but not much.

I tried to make the most of my time, as I tried to strike the man while he was still down. _Bad move, me._ The man easily caught my fist and kicked me in the shin, then proceeded to launch me off himself with his elbow. _Well, for a skinny man he was surprisingly strong._

"You can't run from me forever, _Matthieu_...because soon enough, reality will catch up to you. We will meet again, and next time, _I won't just affect you..._" The man taunted with a sneer, before hurling himself out the still open window. I rushed to the window and looked down. There was no sign of the strange man, yet the weight in my gut persisted.

"Who the _hell_ was that? _Why_ was he calling me _his son_? _Nothing_ is making _any_ sense!" I shouted, my enclosed fists shaking violently, in-sync with the rest of my body. My adrenaline levels has risen dramatically, leading me to take a few deep breaths.

"_That man-_...Matthew, from this day on, he _will_ go out of his way to make your goal _a lot_ more challenging to reach," Matt's voice trembled, in contrast to his usual fearless tone. Lifting a hand to grasp his own chin in a thoughtful matter, Matt stared-off into the distance, still taking in what just happened. "Stay as _far away_ from him as possible, y'hear? He's a dangerous madman, and you've _just_ placed yourself on his bad side."

"But who _is_ he?"

Matt didn't answer, and neither did Maddie.

He was the man in the library who had almost _killed_ me, the man who injected me with that strange purple liquid... _But what does he mean by a 'Counterfeiter'?_

Still left in awe of the recent introduction of such a devilish person, I had no idea that my life had just taken an eventful, and utterly fiendish, turn for the worst.

* * *

**Translations:**

• _Bonjour (mon fils)_ = Hello (my son)

• _Matthieu_ = French way of saying Matthew

• _Amérique_ = America in French

• _Ma amour_ = My love

• _M__ademoiselle = _Madam, My Lady, etc.

• _Moi_ = Me

Thank you for reading! A little fore-shadowing at the end, if I do say myself. FrUk will be present from this point on (doesn't mean is will be in _all_ chapters...) so if you don't like, don't read or just skip over parts you don't like.

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Eight'!

Bye!


	9. Chapter Eight, Their World

_Their World_

* * *

"Ah, it's good to be back!" Matt inhaled the air around us with so much enthusiasm, I asked him twice if he was surely feeling alright.

"I was surprised that Arthur's magic got us this far into the capital, his gift surely is the best in _his_ world!" Maddie commented, stretching her arms above her head, as if we had been traveling all the way to the 2P Universe in a run-down, tiny car.

To think that only yesterday, the three of us were in the cellar of England's spare houses, the one where he practiced all his 'dark-art' rituals back in the day. A simple transportation spell was all it took to take us here.

"Remind me again why we're here, I think the transit between our universes has scrambled my memory." I asked, a hint of sarcasm that neither of them seemed to pick up on.

"You said you wanted answers, so here you go! First, I believe there is someone you should meet," Matt exclaimed, gesturing the void around around us that just happened to be on the inside edge of a forrest, "Just a head's up, though, _don't_ touch the cupcakes. Let alone _eat_ them!"

After a few more minutes aimlessly walking though tall grass and thick undergrowth, there stood the so-called "capital". _Which_ just happened to be the outskirts of London.

Though everything didn't look at all like I remembered. Sombre color-schemes were recycled for everything, _even_ the trees and sky! Only one color stood out from the bleak, gothic settlement. That one color resembled blood, passion, anger, malice.

_Red._

"Doesn't he live in the Tower of London? Matt, I believe you said that was the last place he was seen at." Maddie noted, pointing up at the lumbering tower yards away from us.

"That's correct. _Hopefully_ he hasn't killed anyone recently, otherwise we'll be in a _whole_ lot of shit once we get there." Matt responded flatly, though interest in the idea of a lifeless corpse struck sick excitement in his eyes. _I must remember, he is my opposite personality,_ I reminded myself. _So of course he's a sadistic sociopath!_

The tower hadn't changed much, despite the blood-stained outside walls that were in contrast with my universe's old, weathered bricks.

The doorbell was new to me. Matt rung it twice, and twice again until a little gargoyle-creature opened it, a shrewd look on it's stony face.

"Come in." It said, the metallic voice-box inside of it gave me the impression that it was a robot. Though the creature looked all to real to me. I don't know, maybe the traveling _has_ jumbled-up my brain!

The gargoyle— _let's_ just call him a butler with a severe skin-disease —led us through a maze of rooms, cells and torture-chambers where the rich and poor died in agony for the crimes they committed or the prosecutions they were accused of.

It stopped us in front of a hard-wood door that took up almost the whole wall space, save for a window and a pair of wall-sconces. Muffled dark-wave music could be heard from outside, a melodically sinister voice hummed in tune with the old phonograph, completing the eeriness.

Upon opening the doors, the room looked as if it was used for alchemy. Dusty bookshelves lined the walls, all natural light was penetrated by heavy velvet curtains, the only light source were primitive, wax-candles. Elixirs glowed in their flasks as if they were radioactive, and working at a table over a boiling cauldron was, who I presumed to be, the alchemist. I couldn't quite make out his features, for the hood of his cloak was pulled down over his face.

The young-looking alchemist was obviously so induced in his work, that he didn't hear us entering, so I knocked twice on the door. That did the trick.

"Oh Mattie-kins, you're here!" The alchemist pranced over to Matt and gave him a bone-crushing hug, the kind of hugs you receive from your aunts and grandmothers. Maddie and I couldn't help but emit a small giggle. _Pfft, Mattie-kins?! He is so not going to live that one down!_

"And I see you've brought some friends today, how lovely!"

"Call me that _one_ more time, and I'll fucking _drown_ you in the _Thames_!" Matt replied coldly, in turn the alchemist waggled his finger in front of him in a disapproving manner.

"No need for that kind of talk, mister. Now, be a good boy and introduce me to your friends."

Matt sighed heavily, but did as the man said, "This is Matthew," Matt pointed to me, "My 1P. And the girl is his female counterpart, Madeline." _Hm, I knew Maddie was short for something..._

The man's face lit up from under his hood, "My name is Oliver Kirkland, 2P of Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to meet you two!" With that, Oliver lifted his hood back to finally display his face.

Light freckles dusted his fair-skinned cheeks that looked as if they hadn't ever faced direct sunlight before; his hair a light, pinky-blond hue. Bright blue eyes circled around pink irises, giving England's 2P a look of innocence. Though his clothes weren't visible from under his floor-length cloak, a bright blue bow-tie that accentuated his eyes could be seen at a close distance.

Suddenly, Oliver's eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape, a look of 'faked' surprise, "I _almost_ forgot," he started, before slapping a hand to his forehead, "I can't be a _true_ host if I don't offer my guests pastries and tea!"

Oliver ducked behind a bookshelf into a joint-room, coming out balancing two trays of— are those _cupcakes_?

"Here, take your pick, poppets." He placed the trays on top of a conveniently placed coffee-table. Chocolate sprinkles, pink frosting, vanilla flavored, anyone would snaffle the lot if such a wish was granted. But after heeding Matt's warning, I didn't want to take my chances.

"Oliver, I don't mean to be impolite...But did you, by chance, _poison_ these cupcakes?" I asked in the nicest possible.

The British 2P gasped with a hand across his chest, another look of 'fake' surprise, "How did you know? You _are_ a smart one, Matthew! But not _all_ of them are poisoned, I'll pick out some normal ones for the four of us. Also, how about some rose tea for everyone, hm?"

~•~

Well, Oliver's cooking was certainly better than Arthur's by a long shot, and I was starting to grow quite fond of the floral taste of the tea. Though I think of myself as more of a coffee person than anyone.

"So, Matthew, you came here for answers regarding a certain drug our world houses, yes?" Oliver sparked up the convocation back from it's awkward silence.

"That's right, do you know anything about a _Counterfeiter_...by any chance?" I asked. Surely Oliver knew the basics.

The British 2P waved my question aside like I was asking him which hand was my left, "A _Counterfeiter_, in short, intercepts the _Chain-Reactors_ and gives audio-only flashbacks. Although, the drug can be _extremely_ dangerous _if_ it is used against you."

"Wait, wait, wait," I rushed, holding my hand up in an attempt to stop the confusion I was facing, "What do you mean by a _Chain-Reactor?_"

Oliver held a hand over his mouth, trying his best not to giggle. His reason was vague to me, "Oh Matthew, you have _much_ to learn!"

"What the loon _tried_ to say was, a _Chain-Reactor_ is the same type of drug _we_ gave you. You know, flashbacks and everything." Matt explained, shooting Oliver a deride look. I nodded my head slowly, taking in the information as it came.

"Spot on, Mattie! For that, I'll forget the pence you owe me for the swear-jar." Oliver gave my 2P a sweet smile, obviously relating to the greeting earlier today. "_I still won't forget that name, Mattie-kins!_" I thought sarcastically. And I knew Matt had heard me, his grinding teeth and tight-lipped smile made it quite clear.

"_You know I can easily drown you too, right?_" He thought back, smiling grimly.

Oliver checked his pocket-watch for the millionth time and gasped, "Time _certainly_ flies when you're having telepathic convocations! Matt, be a dear and escort your friends to the dining hall, I'm sure Mortimer has finished the dinner preparations by now."

I raised my eyebrow at Oliver, and he quickly answered, "_The gargoyle._"

Great, does that mean _everyone_ in the whole 2P Universe can see my thoughts and speak to me though the mind?!

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask, poppet?" Oliver questioned, in an empathetic tone, "You've been quiet a lot of the time, might it be something close to the heart?"

By then, I had realized we were the only one's left in the room, Matt and Maddie must've sensed the mood.

"Well, do you know if there is a 2P of my—" I paused to think of the right word, "_partner_, Gilbert Beilshmidt?"

Oliver stroked his chin, a look of uncertainty in his crystal, blue eyes. Whilst chewing on his lip, he answered, "From what happened to Prussia in 1849, it's hard to say. Tell the lad not to give up hope, because even the most impossible can become possible!"

He was right. I never thought I'd see my Papa and mother-country share the same breathing space ever again, and I was proved otherwise.

"Just to make sure," I added, "_Please_ don't tell Arthur, okay. I don't know how he'll react if he was told I had come out of the closet."

The Brit gave a small wink, and smiled, "Oh, I'm sure he'll figure out soon enough." And with that said, he stood up from his chair and lingered at the door, waiting for me. I'm not sure if I should be relived that Oliver won't tell, or be concerned about his last statement. Despite that, I followed him to the dining room

Once I stepped inside, though, it's seemed more of a dining _hall!_ A large, intricate chandelier hung high over a long, glass-topped dining-table. Bone-china plates were stationed in front of four designated seats, paired with sets of exquisite glassware and silverware, polished until you could see your reflection.

"Matt, please sit in whichever seat you want." Oliver offered, even though there was only one seat that hadn't been taken; one of the end seats.

As if on cue, a few more gargoyles, each of them different; flew out from the butler's pantry and out into the hall. The silver platters they held were covered, uncovering the different entrées at our seats. I was given quail, something I had yet to try.

"Now, before any of you eat, I'll have four servant test each dish. You know, just in case of a poisoning," Oliver lowered his voice at the next bit, "The gargoyles may be smart, but they're not _that_ smart!"

With a snap of his fingers, the gargoyles that served us simultaneously cut a smidgin off of our meals and tasted the samples. At the same time, they all disintegrated into granite dust.

Oliver looked bewildered, his mouth parted in incomprehension, "This is a first, _all_ of them obliterated! There is no way that this could be an accident." Another snap, and two nearby gargoyles cleaned up the mess proactively.

_That man's words,_ I though. He _did_ say that he would be the cause of my future misery, so was _this_ his way of proving it? I can't say for sure yet, but I'll have to be extra careful with what I eat.

Out of his vest pocket, Oliver drew out a wand similar to Arthur's. The 2P closed his eyes and chanted some kind of Latin spell that sounded like jargon to the rest of us. With a wave and a flick of his wrist, four clones replaced the piles of fine dust.

"Well, at least _that's_ done. Oliver, I need to ask you something," Matt piped up, seated in the middle of the table on my left, "Is there any new information on Allan. To be more specific, info of his whereabouts?"

That sparked attention in Oliver's eyes, while he though hard. "Ever since you left with your friend Madeline, he disappeared under the radar, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't communicate with him in any way!"

"The lads at MI6 are doing all the tracking, though they said they haven't got a sure answer yet. All they know is that he is in another dimension, possibly—" The Brit shuddered, "universe-hopping..."

Maddie gasped, her usual calm eyes suddenly as wide as her gaping mouth. Matt struck the table with the side of his enclosed fist, swearing coarsely to himself, unaware that we could hear him.

"That _bastard!_" Matt shouted, standing up abruptly and knocking his glass, and all it's content, to the floor. His plate soon followed, landing on the ground with a crash as the china collided with the glass. Port wine stained the ornate carpet, and most of the gravy from Matt's dish had splattered down his shirt. He was blinded by inner and physical rage, his red eyes scorching against his fair skin.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt ran out of the room, knocking over his chair and everything else in his path before slamming the door behind him, possibly busting one of it's hinges.

Oliver sunk into his chair with a sigh, bringing his hands to his face to massage his temples. Maddie's expression transformed from a look of morbid surprise to a mixture of bereave and utter sadness.

"I didn't know...I didn't know Matt could be so—" I couldn't finish my own sentence, giving up with an internal sigh.

Oliver looked up from the table and up at me, even from all the way on the opposite side of him, I could read his expression loud and clear. Unsureness, melancholy, discord.

Oliver folded his hands in front of him and began, "It all started out as simple sibling rivalry. I didn't know what I was doing wrong, until I realized that my actions were the exact opposite to Arthur's! So instead of favoring him—"

"You were favoring _me_..." I cut in, my forehead creased by my slanted brows.

Oliver nodded once, "Right. So much so, the two would always fight. It started verbally, though it led to Matt coming home after school with cuts and bruises. From there on out, they avoided each other like the plague, both mortal enemies. Recently, Allan was banished from this world for all the damages he caused out on a rebellious streak, and began hopping in and out of alternative universes, I believe in search for all of _your_ alternative selves, Matthew."

Now knowing the basic information of this sibling feud, I stood up from my chair and ran off in the direction of Matt, calling a quick "Thank you for dinner." over my shoulder.

Outside the doors, I thought hard on the spot, _"Now, where could he be?"_. It couldn't be that hard to figure out, he's _me_ after all. So I went with my gut feeling and headed for the rooftop.

Climbing the age-old staircases wasn't easy, I had to be mindful of where I stepped, for there was no handrails and not much light. Though my hunch was right once I got to the top.

The cold, brisk wind attacked my exposed face and arms. _Now_ I wished that I had brought my coat along with me! Pushing my complaints to the back of my mind, I walked over to the familiar silhouette a couple of yards away, sitting precariously on the medieval-styled wall around the perimeter of the flat roof.

As I got closer, I could see that Matt was crouching down, his face buried in his hands. How he managed to stay still with the strong wind beating down on his back, I had no clue.

"...Matt, I-I'm sorry. I had no idea I—" I stopped short as I realized why Matt was so quiet. He was silently crying. I had never seen him do so, I guess we have feelings deep down behind our demeanors. His back shuddered every now and again, his legs trembling.

I had long since realized what was happening once Matt opened his mouth to talk, "How could I let him get away with this...?" The sentence was muffled and his voice hoarse. I pitied him, and decided to sit down on the wall with my 2P.

"Matt, it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for something you didn't cause." I tried to reason with him, my tone comforting.

"He...He has to be working with Francois, it's the _only_ explanation. I hate the fact that your seeing me like this, but I...I've failed you, I've failed Maddie, I've even failed _myself_. With Al under his control, you're gonna rue the day you first met that _madman_ of a frog!"

"And who is Francois?" I got that Allen was America's 2P the first time I heard it, but I didn't want to believe who the real identity of 'Francois' was.

"Simply really," Matt looked at me before spacing out, his stare blank.

"Francois...is your —_our_...2P farther."

* * *

Just to clarify, Francois is pronounced Fran-sWA (you'll need to remember this, he _is_ the main antagonist here!)

Tune in next time for 'Chapter Nine'!

Bye! (No translations this time around, I know!)


	10. Chapter Nine, Relations

_Relations_

* * *

Another lazy day home-alone, perfect conditions to start taking-in all of this, infomation. _I have another father who's sole purpose here is to make my life harder, using a potentially dangerous counter-drug to help himself in doing so._ I also learnt much more about, well, myself. I mean, I get that we _all_ have feelings but, I didn't know how difficult Matt's childhood was...

I let out a quiet sigh, switching my body's position to face the inside of the patent sofa, tracing every individual marking of the leather in front of me. _It's something to do,_ I shrugged. I'll at _least_ prevent myself from dying of boredom. _Or_ heatstroke.

It _is_ the middle of June, so what could I expect? Even with the AC on full-blast, the heat is getting unbearable. Getting used to the summer takes a lot if you've spent nearly your whole life in a logcabin nestled in a snowy, _freezing _cold-climate mountain.

Arthur had flown-off to Francis' place for some "alone time", so I thought I'd stay over at America's place for a change.

"Probly' your _stupidest_ idea yet." Matt predicted my thoughts, but I was too hot and _way_ too bored to respond. I don't know how Al handles this weather, especially for hours at a time! He said he was just going out to buy groceries. _He must've found out McDonalds had released a new hamburger,_ I mused sarcastically.

Sweat plastered my bangs to my forehead, my lips starting to crack. I knew licking them wouldn't help. I fumbled with the sleeves of my light pullover, attempting to sluggishly pull it off. After several minutes, I huffed, annoyed that my tries were getting me nowhere, letting my upper-body slump back onto the couch, defeated.

Just before I could close my slitted eyes, there was a hesitant knock at the door. Ugh, _finally_ he decides to show up!

Streching for longer than necessary, I ambled to the door. But who I met at the door _wasn't_ Alfred, let alone an American.

A girl no older than Maddie stood with her weigh shifted to one side, wearing what appeared to be a purple, battered tailcoat. Her white shirt and cravat were stained a brownish ocher with dirt, her skirt appered otherwise fine apart from a nasty looking blood splatter.

Her features intrigued me the most. Her wild, tangled snow hair draped over her slender shoulders, and her crimson-violet eyes stared straight ahead. _Was she blind, or was the heat slowing her reflexes?_ Apart from an ugly-looking scar that raced along her left cheek, her fair skin could be compaired to porcelain.

"Uh, are you lost?" I asked, unsure if she was deft or mute. Or both. She slowly inclined her head and looked up at me.

"Could I — come in?" She mumbled coldly, almost inaudible. I nodded slowly, and helped her through the doorway as she staggared into Al's over-heated flat. I was surprised when Maddie almost jumped out of her skin once she saw the girl.

"H-Hey, it's me, Madeline! D-Don't you remember?" My counterpart had her hands on the girl's shoulders, her nails starting to slightly dig into the girl's skin. She _knows_ her? But, Maddie has _never_ said anything about...

The girl tilted her head to the side, confusion swept over her European features. She seemed to have an extreamly vague idea of Maddie, but then simply looked down at her feet.

Maddie's hope-filled eyes breifly glazed over with bereave, and loosened her grip. Not letting the situation get the better of her, she guided her apparent friend over to a nearby armchair, just placed beside my temporary bed.

Once we were all seated, Maddie started conveying infomation to the girl, trying desperatly to get some recognition out of her, "Your name is Julchen, you are a Fem Country...just like me. D-Do you remember? _Anything_ at all?" Maddie rested a hand on the girl's forearm, being mindful to control her force.

The girl flinched at her name, and narrowed her eyes, before her quiet demeanor changed drastically, "Of course I know _mein_ own name!" She shook off Maddie's hand and stood up, pointing her thumb at herself as she spoke, "It's ze _least _an awesome country like me can know!"

Even through the sudden outbreak, a hint of relief glinted in Maddie's eyes. The girl apparently called 'Julchen' huffed, before she started pacing, "Grr...Efen so, I _shtill_ can't remember anysing else! _Verdammt_, vhy _me_? Shtupid amnesia!" She spat more words through gritted teeth, though I didn't know more than the basics of German. And, it seemed, neither did Matt or Maddie.

I stroked my chin in though, "Did anything happen to you before you came here?"

Julchen's eyes flicked to me, before fixating on her scuffed, knee-high boots, "All I remember? Hm, I know zat I vhas lying on zee ground, vith some blasted man shtraddling me... Zee next sing I knew, he vhas injecting me vith some kind of white, milky liquid and everysing vhent black! _Und_ after I voke up, I found myself outside zis apartment complex, in zee 1P!World."

Matt gave me an uneasy look, and I quietly reassured him that what he was thinking wasn't true...at least I hoped to God that he was wrong.

_Francois...no, no there must be some mistake here!_

But I knew deep down that there was a possibility that the mad Frenchman had attacked Julchen. Only asking would hold the answer, "Do you remember what the man looked like?"

Julchen sucked in a breath, "I vhas in zee heat of zee moment, and I vhas quite veak at zee time. He must've ambushed me! My fision vhas blurry, but I know for zee record he had short, russet hair..._und_ dark sunglasses."

It was enough information to calm _my_ nerves down, but Matt still had a spooked expression on his face. I was going to ask why, but Julchen spoke first, "Anyvhey, I do remember somesing else...but I must only speak vith you, you..._und_ Gilbert Beilschmidt." Julchen had pointed to me and to Matt, and also included Gil. _But why?_ I though.

~•~

Gilbert was still confused and alarmed by the presence of Julchen. Once he had arrived, she simply blurted out that she was his female counterpart. Which didn't surprise me as much, I mean, their looks explain it perfectly.

"Vait, vait, vait...you are saying zhat zhere _iz_ a 2P of me?!" He exclaimed after Julchen had explained why she was looking for our apartment.

Apparently, word had gotten to Julchen and Gil's 2P that Matt and I were having trouble with Francois, so Julchen was sent to find us and bring us to the German 2P. But, on the way, Julchen was attacked by an unknown country, and wound up in the 1P!World.

Julchen said she didn't know which world she was in at the time of the attack, but it was somewhere quite unlike any world she had seen before.

Matt hesitated to speak, as he took a drag on a fresh cigarette, making an effort to blow the smoke away from us, "You said the stuff you were injected with was white and milky, eh?"

Julchen nodded slowly, and Matt continued, taking another lenghty drag mid-sentence, "Given your amnesia, I think your attacker has injected you with a certain drug from the 2P!World — they call it a _Forgetter_. With every shot, the drug nulifies any memories you had before the drug entered your bloodstream, causing amnesia. Depending on the color of the drug, the longer the time you will have amnesia for."

"Thankfully, the bastard only injected you with a white dosage. Which means you've had amnesia for the last...two or three months. You should be starting to remember more by now."

"Maybe the attacker _knew_ what you're goal was, and was _trying_ to stop you...though he didn't want to go as far as _killing_ you on the spot." I added. The three countries nodded in agreement.

"Either vhay, I need to bring you guys vith me," As she padded to the door of the apartment, she cracked a smile at Gil, "_Und_ I'm sure zat you vould like to finally meet your 2P, _ja_?"

With an enthusiastic nod, Gilbert fell into step behind Julchen as she walked out, leaving Matt and I to file along behind her.

~•~

The journey from the Kirkland household to the 2P!World wasn't nearly as bumpy as my first run, though my brain still felt like mush. Though it didn't take me long to figure out we weren't in the forestland of England like last time.

Julchen easily found her barings and headed north-east, not taking a moment's rest. I stumbled after the others as they followed on without me. _Hm, it's strange that I'm really the only one who is affected by the universe travelling..._

_"Oh trust me, you're definatly not the only one!"_ Matt thought telepathically, a rather dry note of humor stung his sentence.

Panting as I sluggishly jogged to catch up with the others, I noticed only then that Matt was nervously smiling to himself. Nervously. _Smiling._ To himself. And, the worst part about it was that I just _couldn't_ put my finger on the reason why.

My vision lingered on Matt, until he finally noticed that he was being watched and tried to compose himself, his ruby eyes silently cursing me. I simply smiled back at him and refocused on the scenery.

The serene atmosphere made the whole trek worthwhile. Hilly countrysides and quaint natural gardens gave off an unattural sence of peace, especially for the fact that this is the 2P!World I'm talking about!

_Splosh..._

My train of thought stopped short at the noise. _That's funny, why would there be water around?_ When we first crash-landed here, the only lake I saw was off in the distance some five miles away. I slowly looked down and my stoumach dropped.

I had stepped in a puddle of a blood-water mixture, inches-deep, next to a rotting corpse. I lurched back, praying that I would keep my lunch down. The frozen look of horror and excruciation on the corpse's face store blankly at the large, open wound on his torso. After a few seconds to recover, I sat down on my haunches and studied the body.

From his Iron Cross, I knew staight away that he was a German soldier, an elite. But from his uniform adorned with rusted medals of bravery and strength, this body _should've_ finished decomposing in the 16th Century.

"Time differs from universe to universe. Here, history's bloodiest fights are shtill preserved _und_ days go past normally, like nosing iz wrong." Was Julchen's grave answer, as she closed the eyes of another soldier a few paces away from me, putting the poor man finally at rest.

Out of us four, Gilbert was the most quiet and most shaken by the macabre scene. But he wasn't staring at the soldiers. Something far worse lay infront of us, and Gil was utterly horrified.

About ten meters away, a formidable wall towered over us, and Julchen's expression became hardened and unreadable. And for the first time, I saw it in real life, not out of a history book.

The Berlin Wall.

I saw my partner's hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning white. But he stood absolutely still, Julchen's eyes bore into the back of her counterpart's skull. I kept myself silent, a big part of me didn't want to adgitate Gil.

But an _even_ bigger part of me wanted to avoid the likelihood of an outburst. I got up from off the ground and cleared my throat quietly.

Halfway through my first sentence, I had to almost shout to stop my self from mumbling, "—'s wrong? A-Are you—"

"_Halt einfach die Schnauze_, Matthew!" he snapped back, whirling around so I could see his face. Tears clouded up his usually controlled blazing eyes, which now gave the impression of an out-of-control inferno.

Hesitating momentarily now that he had just openly yelled at me, his love, he turned to Julchen, lifting her by her shirt. She still kept her serious poker face, and refused to flinch as he yelled into her face.

"_Vhy, Julchen, vhy_?! You are _me_, you should _know_ zat zis iz my _biggest_ repressed memory since zee beginning of our war days!" I could hear his voice tremble and crack as he touched on the subject of his past.

She sneered down at Gil, her red-violet eyes strained into a cold stare, "Just let it go, Gil. You kan't hold on to zee past forever."

Gil gritted his teeth, "Answer zee goddamn question."

"Gil, stop this right _now_!"

I flinched, my mouth had a mind of it's own. Gilbert glanced over at me, his glare hard, but his eyes softened slightly as the message got through his head. Reluctantly, he lowered Julchen back to the ground and let go of her with a shove, and she stumbled into a tree.

He made his way over to me, and sheepishly refused to make much eye-contact, "Matt I," He sighed, defeated by his feelings, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off at you like that."

I repressed a sigh, "Me too."

Julchen got up unaided, and dusted her jacket off, "Vhell, if you two hafe finished making amends, we've shtill got a lot of ground to cover."

Hand-in-hand, Gil and I followed behind, simply enjoying each-other's company. Even if the air was filled with awkwardness from the outbreak, it seemed to roll off Gil's back. But not entirely off mine.

~•~

Up a stony pathway that hadn't been tended to in what looked like months and past moss-covered headstones from the Middle Ages. After climbing an extra five steps and we were there. This was where Prussia's 2P lived. Julchen and the other three of us stood before a door twice my own height. The door to a Germanic cathedral.

"Oi! Anyvone _home_?!" Julchen banged on the door like she had the intentions of breaking it down. While she didn't cease to stop the racket she was making, I took the chance to look around some more.

"Uh, I'm just goin' to look around some more...?" I mumbled to myself, not waiting for an answer.

Julchen was too induced in fighting the door to hear me, "Just don't get yourself in trouble, 'kay?" Matt called after me, leaning up against a pillar at the entrance, staying as still as ever.

I found my way to a garden path, barely etched into the overgrown plantation to the west of the structure. Headstones upon headstones covered almost every square-meter of the surrounding terrain, a lost and forgotten graveyard.

Walking past a row, I read what hadn't been long lost, some names I could barely make out. But one name I stopped short at, the strength in my stride gone. After brushing away a few bugs and spiderwebs, I read what I could understand, for the writing was all in German.

_Here lies Frederick II, King of Prussia,  
Beloved husband and father,  
24 January 1712 - 17 August 1786.  
Rest in Peace._

"I beg your pardon, sir, but these are _prifate_ grounds. No trespassers allowed." A voice knocked me out of my concentration. It was monotonous, like something I've never heard of before. I slowly inclined my head to scan the premises, and it didn't take me long to find who spoke.

Matching the voice to the face confused me a little, I didn't know such a combination was possible. The man had long, messy dark blonde hair that was barely contained in a low ponytail. His eyes were a crystal blue that had seen all too much bloodshed over the painfully long years in this world. His pale-skinned face had been scarred from battles both triumphant and unsuccessful. The whole of his right arm was encased in metal, rusting and dinted from years of use.

"Oh, zis? Not for show, no. I losht _mein_ _real_ arm in zee Seven Year's War, zis old sing iz vhat I've used since." The man gave a chuckle with no humor.

My brain finally regaining the ability to speak, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind about my presence, "I-I'm here with a few friends, I didn't mean to pry."

"Ah, zen you musht be zat North American fellow I sent Julchen to find. Matthew, vhas it?" It was reassuring to know that 2Ps don't forget easily, I wonder if they can teach that to the _rest_ of the Allies that.

"Y-Yes, that's right. By the way, where are the others?"

"Already inside. Come, it vill get quite chilly if you shtay out any longer." And so, I followed the man inside, despite the heavy weight of the headstone's presence.

What was so important about it? I guess I'll never know.

The man had to slow his pace down so he wouldn't lose me, as I was in awe of the building's insides. Grand tapestries flanked the stone walls, brightly lit up by wax-candle chandeliers and sconces. Every footstep echoed down the grand hall, the only sound escaping the sheer silence. I noticed a kind of reoccuring theme in the tapestries; the man himself, as well as Gilbert and Ludwig. I asked the man about them.

"These tapestries tell a tale as old as time itself, you know? From zee days of zee Teutonic Knights, Prussia's birth; to zee day it all fell apart. Though Prussia still lives on, in zee minds of many beliefers, all ofer zee world." His voice hinting graveness, but his face remained as stony as a statues'.

I wouldn't blame him. Knowing that you were dissolved, _killed_, long ago and yet you continue to live, never to be at peace so long as you are remembered, would be terrifyingly harsh on your mental wellbeing.

Sorrow panged in my chest when I remembered Gilbert. _He would be feeling the same, wouldn't he_, I mused, my forehead crinkled as I continued to mull over the thought.

"Everyone is in here," The man stood next to a ordinary door, something I wasn't used to in a peculiar world. A gold-plaqued sign jutted out from the wall, the word 'Study' printed in black italics.

Sure enough, everyone was there, relief struck only on Gil's face; the other two only expressed annoyance.

"Vhere vere you? You vere getting zee awesome Prussia all worried!" Gilbert asked, a nervous laugh making his voice waver.

"Yeah, Matthew. _Where_ were you?" Matt exclaimed, not in the same _relieved-but-nervous_ tone Gil used, but in more of a _you-worried-me-sick-and-stuffed-us-around_ kind of voice.

"I told you, I went looking around..." I replied sheepishly, a small childish whine thrown in as well.

Matt wasn't impressed, and he _didn't_ have to tell me that. Slitted eyes, and his mouth curved into a scowl; disapproval was practically written all over him.

"_Must_ vee continue vith zis childish banter?" The man's thunderous voice cut through our not so airy convocation, silencing us.

Julchen was the first to speak up to clear away the quietness, "Gil, Matt, Matthew...this is Gilen Beilschmidt. He is the Prussia of this world.

"Hold your applause." Gilen snorted dryly.

From behind him, Gilen pulled out a scroll that looked at least a few centuries old, yet the writing was fully intact, no words short of fading.

"Recently, a little bird told me zat a posse of rouge 2P Countries were breaching zee age-old laws of drug-trafficing, inhumane attacking, _und_ universal-travel." He gestured to the scroll, "I've been doing my research, _und_ I've found out zere are three main offenders here, two of zem are working for zee one true madman."

His tone faltered, "One of zem, iz _mein_ own _bruder_." For a moment, his serious face crumpled, and I could see the emotional pain that he was battling whithin.

Shaking him out of his milisecond of gloom, his face as hard as sandstone rebuilt itself and was now back in its emotionless state. But I knew that what I had just witnessed would not go unseen.

"Zat iz all I've been able to get in my current state, zat iz vhy I summoned you three here, for zee same little bird told me that you, Matthew, have been having some trouble vith one of zee offenders."

I gulped, and Matt started kicking something on the ground, but stopped short when Gilen gave him a warning look.

Somehow, all of these people have to be linked to one main goal, and that goal has to have something in common with all the different offences that have been going on. There are so many things that we have to consider, that it's tearing my mind apart. Or am I just experiencing a terrible headache?

"_Und_ now, until vee can find a shtrong lead, you guys are gonna hafe to shtay here vith us _und_ help vith some...field-testing."

The last words she said sent a thousand volts of electricity down my spine. Field-testing, gods, what _have_ I gotten myself into?

_But it's the only thing we can do if we want to get a lead on all of this madness._

"Whatever, I'm in."

_This decision will play a part in how difficult my plight will be made for me. If I bail out now, I'll lose everything I've worked for in these past short months._

"_Ja_, me too! Zee great Prussia never runs from a challenge!"

_And I will never give up on my promise that I swore to myself._

"I'll do whatever it takes to get my—" I looked Matt straight in the eye and corrected myself, "_our_ father back, so I'm in as well."

And even though Matt snorted at my pledge, he didn't hesitate to hide the glint of pride in his auburn eyes.

* * *

Translations:

• _Ja_ = Yes

• _mein_ = my, mine, etc.

• _Verdammt = _Damn, Damn it, F *^!... Whichever one you think fits the context most :/

• _Und_ = And

• Bruder = Brother

• _Halt einfach die Schnauz = _Just shut up

Thanks for reading!


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